A Being in Darkness
by Yuki Kurumi
Summary: DMHG. Voldemort, as we know, is rising to power, and he's recruiting people into his Death Eater circle, one of them Draco. I'm trying to not make this the mushy crap that i see often in many fics. PG-13 for now, R for violence later. CHAPTER 9 UP! Review
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

He sat silently on the grass, staring at the cloudless sky above him. A slight breeze ruffled his hair and he lifted one hand to remove the few strands that went to his face, his pale-blue eyes crinkled to prevent the dust from entering them.

Draco Malfoy was confused. When he was younger, way younger than he was now, he always entertained the idea that serving the Dark Lord would be cool. After all, he was a Malfoy, and Malfoys were always into the Dark Arts. Of course, he was never as obsessed with being a Death Eater as Lucius was. His father thought there was nothing in the world better than being a faithful follower of the Dark Lord. Draco, on the other hand, did not give a damn about the Dark Lord. He wanted only the power that comes with bearing the Dark Mark.

But now that father is in Azkaban…

Draco sighed as he lay back on the ground. Harry Potter, his archrival, had landed his father in Azkaban a little more than a year ago, and that planted some fear into him. He knew that his father did a clean job of everything and no matter what others might say the Malfoy prestige managed to get him out of a several tight spots. Draco looked up to him for that. That was why it came as a shock to him when he learned of what had happened.

I don't want to go to jail like he did, he thought with a shudder. I have a lot more things that I want to do with my life. I can't even stand a minute in Azkaban.

And now his loyalty to the Dark Side was wavering. As was planned, he would be receiving the Dark Mark as soon as he graduates at the end of the year. A year ago he would have been thrilled about it, but now he was starting to dread the coming of that day.

A part of him wanted to receive right at that moment, but a bigger part of him wanted to approach Dumbledore and revert to the side of Light. Yet he did not want to do so. First of all, it was admitting defeat to Potter, and that was the last thing that Draco would want to happen. Second, he was very sure that the Dark Lord's Death Eaters would be tracking him, the would-be Malfoy traitor, down. And, of course, he could not forget the power that he could have would never be his if he turns into a wimp and decides to run and confess to Dumbledore.

But power did not seem as important as his life and honor anymore.

What surprised him the most, however, was the fact that he was not particularly mad at Potter for what happened to Lucius. In fact, he was almost grateful.

He shuddered involuntarily and forced himself to stand up. It was bad enough that he wanted to change sides, but being grateful to Potter was an entirely different thing.

He dusted off his robes. There was Quidditch practice tomorrow and he needed all the sleep he can get. He trudged up the castle and opened the entrance doors quietly so as not to get caught. He tiptoed quietly across the hall and rounded a corner just to bump into someone. Someone he could not see.

He looked around and saw nothing, so he stood still and used his perfect hearing to try and detect any sound and reached blindly about. Finally, he heard it: a soft gasp as his hands came in contact with something silky.

"Who's there?" he asked tentatively, careful not to make his voice too loud in case Filch and Mrs. Norris were lurking nearby. Once more, he reached out and touched what he supposed was an Invisibility cloak, but this time he held on without giving the person-in-hiding to recover from the shock. He could feel fingers prying his clutched hand open, and he couldn't help but smirk.

"It would be better to just stop this futile attempt at escaping because I won't let go anyway," he said to the still unseen person and heard a small sigh of defeat. The hand trying to make him let go stopped fighting and a very familiar voice called out to him.

"All right, Malfoy. I give up," said a female voice. The person concealed behind the cloak revealed herself. "Now please let go."

Draco raised his eyebrows. Why, if it isn't our very own Head Girl! I didn't know that you were one of this school's night prowlers." He clucked his tongue. "What is this world coming to?" He took in the wand in her hand and the overflowing bag of books slung over her shoulders. "Been to the library, I presume?"

Hermione Granger glared at him. "Well, you've got some nerve! Our ever dearest Head Boy was out on the grounds," she said as she saw the state of his robes. She grinned triumphantly at him. "Why were you out, then? And without an invisibility cloak or something like that for a precaution, too. What if Filch had caught you? He'd have you hanging upside-down in his office without Dumbledore's consent in no time at all."

"Granger, I didn't know you cared so much." He placed his palm on his chest where his heart supposedly was. "Unfortunately, I don't return your feelings. But don't lose hope. I'll make sure to mention to Crabbe and Goyle that you fancied Slytherins. Hell knows they need some excitement in their lives. You might just be what they need." Without any other words, he turned his back to her and waved his hand casually, disappearing slowly into the dark.

Hermione glared indignantly in his direction_. How dare he call me 'what'! What am I—an inanimate object? _Here was another one of her rare attempts at getting one up on Draco, yet he still managed to flip the cards over and turn her own words against her. It was almost as good as keeping her mouth shut.

"What's his problem?" She asked herself as she began to pull Harry's invisibility cloak over her shoulders. She froze. The cloak wasn't there! She looked frantically down on her feet while her hand went through her bookbag, but came up with nothing. She swore at the realization of what had happened.

Draco had the cloak!

Meanwhile, Draco, who was nearing the Slytherin dungeons, stopped in his tracks. He looked down at his right hand and almost laughed out loud as he realized what was in his grasp. He had Granger's cloak. He grinned to himself and set off again for the dungeons. He whispered the password (Sidereus) to the blank wall before him and it split open to admit him into the Slytherin Common Room.

He walked through the open door, past the fireplace and down a flight of stairs leading into his sleeping quarters. Once in his room, he went to his dresser and placed Granger's cloak inside. Assuming it was hers, of course, though it was most probably Potter's.

He picked out a green shirt with matching pajamas and changed into them. With a wave of his wand, he extinguished the torches on the wall and collapsed into his bed, falling asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow.

Darkness. Everywhere she looked there was only darkness. She turned swiftly and shivered involuntarily as she did so. It was cold. Very cold. She could feel her fingers starting to numb. She rubbed her hands together in an attempt to heat them up a little.

She closed her eyes. She felt… light, calm. It did little to lessen the feeling that she was floating, and she reminded herself that she was, indeed, floating. She spread out her arms, feeling the cold through her fingertips, spreading from those ten points to inside her body. Her clothes fluttered in the unseen and unfelt breeze, fanning her hair away from her face. It was unexpectedly nice, dark and mysterious in its own bizarre way… and she found that she liked it.

Through her closed eyelids, she saw something shining. She buried her face in her hands, hoping to shut out the light that seemed to blind her by its sudden appearance in the dark.

Something warm touched her shoulder and made her open her eyes. She squinted to see what was out there. Something–a dot, was shining not far away, its multifarious colors beckoning her to come. Unconsciously, she picked herself up and walked—no, floated, towards the light… and stopped rigid in the air.

A thousand ice-cold, invisible hands were touching her from all angles, pulling her body away from the warmth. She relaxed visibly. The cold was pleasing. She allowed the now familiar tingle to flow through her body once more, before her mind began to rationalize and she realized what was happening. Cold was dark, dark was cold. And dark was evil.

She pulled against the hands holding her back. She struggled to reach the small light that seemed so very far away, her arms slowly nearing it. One by one, the hands disappeared. The closer she got to the light, the less hands held her back. Four inches… three inches… only two more inches to go and she can escape. An inch left, and she felt the only hand left trying to pull her away from the light. With renewed strength, the hand managed to draw her away from the many colors, but she stood firm. Reaching out her hand one more time, her fingers finally made contact with the spray of rainbow colors that felt so warm and contenting. The hand disappeared.

And so did she.

A/N: This is my not my first try at writing a fic, but my past fics suck and this is the best I've come up with. I don't know how this will turn out, but I need the readers' support and suggestions. Reviews please!!!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Is everything ready?"

"Yeah. I think that's about everything."

"Good thing I remembered what day it was."

"Absolutely. For five years we kept on forgetting. Not this year, though."

"Good thing I reminded you, eh."

"Like I needed you to remind me. I know perfectly well about today's occasion."

The boy with green eyes smirked. "Of course you didn't need reminding. You, of all people, should know about this."

His friend, the one often called "carrot-head", glanced at him suspiciously. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. He knew that Ron liked Hermione more than just as a best friend, but he was not about to reveal that knowledge… yet. He heard footsteps coming from the girls' dormitory. He motioned for Ron to shut up and follow him.

Hermione stepped out of the girls' staircase, rubbing her eyes and stifling a yawn. As she walked, she almost tripped over something big on the floor. Looking downward, she saw that it was a big package. She could see her name scribbled on it, the letters changing from red to gold and red again.

Turning her back to the boys' hiding place, she kneeled on the floor and took the package in her hands. It was heavy. The weight heightened her curiosity and she badly wanted to open it and learn what was inside and where it came from, but she didn't want to do so until she was sure that it was not a prank of some sort.

"Happy Birthday, Hermione," a soft voice whispered into her ear.

"Happy Birthday, Herm," echoed another voice.

Hermione turned and saw her two best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, standing right behind her. Tears welled in her eyes at the sweetness of their acts. "You remembered," she said, rising from her position on the floor. "Thank you." She went to Ron and hugged him, giving him a peck on the cheek at the same time. She did the same to Harry, who was busy trying to keep a straight face.

Ron was red in the face and ears that it was difficult to tell where his hair started. He turned to face them in time to see Harry snigger, "What?" he asked, growing even more red that it was now almost impossible to distinguish which was his hair and which was his face.

Harry collapsed into a chair, laughing his heart out. He managed to calm himself down a little to see his friends' faces, but almost immediately began laughing again. He couldn't stop laughing for the expression on Ron's face was so funny. It seemed that he didn't know whether to laugh along or to levitate Harry to the infirmary.

"I-I'm sorry!" Harry said with a little difficulty, wiping a tear from his eyes. "It's-it's just-never mind." He was at last able to control himself, breathed in and smiled. "Sorry, mate. But… you might want to try to not look as hilarious next time.' He walked over to Hermione. "How'd you find my—" Ron coughed from behind. "Er—our gift? It was a very difficult task to look for novels as old as these."

Hermione looked up from the book that she had already started. "I like it very much," she said with sincerity. "I have been looking for these kinds of books ever since I learned I was a witch. But," she motioned to the box, which held about six or seven more books. "Did you really have to buy so much?"

Ron put a hand on her shoulder. "It's cool with us, Herm," he said. "These books are worth nothing compared to you. You could mention all the books in the world, but all of them combined would never amount to even the tips of your hair." He stared for a long time into her eyes, watching their honey-gold color and wondering how something smaller than a sickle could be the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

He pulled back, clearing his throat. His heart was thumping very fast and he was afraid that both Harry and Hermione could be listening and counting his heartbeat rate. He took a few deep breaths to calm down his nerves. "At any rate," he said. "We'd better get downstairs fast. Breakfast ends in twenty minutes and our first subject is Potions. Wouldn't want to give Snape any reason to deduct points from our house."

Hermione agreed. "Right," she said, placing her book down on the nearest table. "Let me just get these into my dormitory. You guys wait here." She left with the huge box in hand, staggering a little as she ascended the staircase.

"And you can take your eyes off the girls' dormitories now, Ron," Harry said once she was out of earshot. "Girls who will come out might think you're a pervert." He slapped Ron lightly on the back. "But honestly, I could have left you, you know."

Ron stared at him "What are you talking about?" he asked, although he knew perfectly well what Harry was on about.

Harry rolled his eyes and slumped on the nearest armchair. He reached for the book that Hermione had been reading, and was not at all surprised to see that she was already on page 32. "I could've left you two so that you can confess and go kiss her," he said seriously, seemingly unperturbed by Ron's surprised reaction. "I knew you wanted to, Ron."

Instead of denying it, as Harry had expected, Ron sat defeatedly on the floor in the middle of the common room. "It wasn't a question of whether I wanted to or not," he said quietly, not bothering to ask how he came to know of his personal problems. "It was a question of whether Hermione would allow me."

They both turned their heads as they heard the dormitory door open and watched Hermione climb out, carrying her bookbag, which was usually overflowing with really thick textbooks.

"Shall we go?" she asked cheerfully, not noticing the sad look Ron gave her as he nodded and led the way out of the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Weasley! Change places with Malfoy!" Snape shouted, cutting Harry's and Ron's conversation about Quidditch. He had just entered the dungeon that served as their Potions classroom. "It's about time you stop depending on someone as incompetent as Granger." He rounded suddenly on Harry. "And you. Up there with Goyle!"

Hermione, despite her hurt of being called incompetent, stepped on Harry's big toe just as his lips were forming the word "what."

"Go on, Harry," she whispered. "Please don't anger Snape. He'll just dock points from Gryffindor. We don't need that. Please."

Harry and Ron stared at Hermione's pleading expression. Seeing her face, both decided that it was best to do as she wanted. She was, after all, their Head Girl–all for the good of her house. They quietly stood up and carried their cauldrons to the back of the room, where Crabbe and Goyle were waiting impatiently.

As they passed by Malfoy, who was also carrying his robes and was obviously displeased by the arrangements, Harry could swear he heard the platinum-blonde whisper, "Used your cloak lately, Potter?"

Harry turned his head and saw Malfoy already on Hermione's table, about to sit on the chair he had just vacated. He shook his head. What did Malfoy know about his cloak, anyway?

Hermione, meanwhile, was trying to stuff one of the books that Harry and Ron had given her into her bag when she heard a soft voice whisper into her ear.

"Amid the Storms and Seas," Draco whispered. "A true classic, I see. Was that Potter's anniversary gift for you? I mean, it can't be from Weasley, can it? He's just too—_financially incapable_ of buying that old a novel. Even if he tried to sell his 'house' he wouldn't earn enough money to buy him even just the smallest pebble in Diagon Alley."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Hermione whispered, managing to close her bag with a small 'snap!' She averted her attention to what Snape was writing on the board in front of the class.

"A little too offended, eh?" Draco continued while he wrote down all the ingredients that Snape had indicated. "But it's true, isn't it? I've seen that thing they call a house in the newspaper. And to think that the _Daily Prophet_ had dared publish that issue. I assure you that Crabbe and Goyle have far larger houses than that. Of course, our Manor is way bigger than theirs—"

"I didn't ask you to tell me about how large the houses of you Slytherins are, Malfoy," Hermione cut in. she took out a quill and some sheets of parchment and took down notes on the effect of the Taltaline Potion on humans and animals. She relaxed when Draco did not make any remark and began concentrating on what Snape was discussing.

The rest of the class time was spent making the actual potion and it passed with no incidents, except, of course, if you consider Neville's second melted cauldron in an hour and a half. The class went up front to Snape's table one by one to submit the potions that they had individually made and stored in small vials, then slowly filed orderly out of the classroom.

Hermione returned from Snape's table to clean up her area and retrieve her bag. As she watched Draco leave, she noticed that there was a note placed beside her cauldron. She opened it cautiously and read what was written inside. It said:

You forgot Potter's cloak the other night. You'd better get it back before I change my mind about returning it.

Great Hall, fifteen minutes before curfew.

It wasn't signed, but Hermione didn't need to see any signature to know whom it was from. She carefully folded the note and placed it in her pocket. Muttering _Scourgify_, she cleaned up her table and waited for Harry and Ron by the door.

"I swear," Ron whispered angrily to both Harry and Hermione. "I could kill Crabbe! He pretended to ask me a question when what he really wanted to do was to put extra powdered leaves of kiwi in my potion. And luck of all lucks, Snape came right at that moment and saw that my potion turned green instead of purple. He was ready to jump for joy! And he gave me a zero!"

Hermione smiled in spite of Ron's bad temper. "I know it was unfair, Ron. But what did you expect? They're both slimy Slytherins, and you can expect no less from their kind. You know that."

"We all know that, Hermione," interjected Harry. "But knowing that couldn't have stopped Ron from feeling furious." He led the way out of the castle and into the greenhouses for Herbology. "I mean, those Slytherins are really going too far. Don't tell me you'd be okay if Malfoy had done the same thing to you?"

Hermione shrugged. "Of course I won't. But whining won't do anything to help either, won't it?"

Ron grunted grumpily from behind them. "And neither are you, Hermione. You know what, just—just shut up. Just because you can stand it doesn't mean everyone else can. I mean, we know you're smart and all, but not all of us are as good as you are in everything."

Hermione stared, taken aback by Ron's hurtful words. If it weren't such a serious moment then she would have considered it as a joke. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she nodded and stepped into the greenhouse. "Alright," she said. "Sorry then, Ron." She went over to their usual table and placed her books down, ready to start the lesson.

Harry cleared his throat just as Ron was about to follow her inside, pulling on his sleeve to prevent him from stepping in. Ron stopped and faced Harry.

"Ron, remember what day it is today? It's Hermione's birthday," Harry said. "You weren't supposed to do anything to upset her. Slipped your mind, didn't it?"'

Ron's eyebrows ceased to form a "V." For a moment he looked worried and glanced in Hermione's direction. Sighing, he went inside and sat beside her, but did not say anything or apologize for his earlier actions.

Harry shook his head and went in after them, seating himself on Hermione's other side.

Harry began placing his books and parchment into his bag. "Hermione," he said. "We have to go now. Why don't you just borrow that book, do your homework in the common room, and return the book tomorrow?" He slung his bag over his shoulder and Ron followed suit.

Hermione nodded, showing that she heard him. "But I'm almost done with this. Just two more paragraphs. I think I can manage with thirty minutes." She waved them of distractedly. "You two go on back to the tower. I really need to finish this essay today."

"Hermione," Harry said again, this time with an exasperated tone of voice. "That Transfiguration essay is due a week away. You really have to learn how to relax, you know." He placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder and she looked up at him, quill poised above the parchment, ready to write a brand new sentence.

"Come on, Harry. You know how Hermione is," Ron said. He had made up with Hermione during lunch, and now they were again in speaking terms. He smiled, his eyes crinkling. "She'd prepare for an exam two years away. No offense meant, Herm."

Hermione smiled back. "None taken. But you really should finish your essays today, too. I mean, this is our NEWTs year. You don't really want to cram, don't you Ronald?" She giggled when Ron's ears turned pink at the sound of his name. "What's wrong, _Ronald_?"

Ron's ears went further pink. "Stop it, Herm. You know fully well that I dislike that name." He turned to Harry and slapped him lightly on the back. "Come on, mate. She doesn't want us here. She only wants the company of her beloved books. We have no place in here." Despite the hurt tone that he had used, he smiled at Hermione, his eyes full of humor. "We'll see you tomorrow, Hermione. And try to get some sleep."

Hermione nodded and Ron and Harry turned to leave the library. "Night Harry, Night Ron," she called after them, and they both answered with a "G'night."

She turned back to her essay and resumed writing. After a few moments, she heard the library door shut close, and the only sound that could be heard was the occasional scratch of her quill on the parchment. For twenty minutes she worked on her essay and by the time she was done it was already 8:50 in the evening.

As Hermione placed the book she used on the top shelf, her sleeve slipped downward, exposing her right wrist and her watch. She glanced at the time and turned to her table to fix her things. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that there as something she had to do, but just couldn't remember what it was.

She reached for her bag across the table and started placing both the used and the unused parchment inside. She closed the clasp of her bag and placed her quill in a pocket of her robe. As she did so, her fingers brushed the note that Draco had left for her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. She quickly picked up her bag, ran past a scowling Madame Pince, and made her way to the Great Hall. Once she had entered the large oak doors, she slowed down and sat on a table, panting. She took a few deep breaths and looked around the room. Draco was nowhere in sight.

Hermione raised her watch to her eyes. 8:56. _Darn,_ she muttered under her breath. _I'm more than late. I'm super late. He probably already left minutes ago._ She stood up from her seat and began walking to the door, determined to get back into Gryffindor Tower before 9 o'clock comes, which was the curfew for Hogwarts students.

Just as she got past the Ravenclaw table, she felt something on her robes, and she was sent falling to the floor. Her breath was knocked out of her and, as she was trying to regain it, she heard a soft chuckle from behind her. She turned her head and saw Draco, his whole body save for his blonde head absolutely invisible. He was obviously wearing the invisibility cloak and stepping on the hem of her robes at the same time.

"Malfoy, you jerk!" Hermione screeched. She picked herself up and dusted off her knees. "What's the big idea?" She stood up to her full height and glared at him.

He shrugged, the familiar Malfoy smirk drawn on his face. "It's your fault you were late. I figured you got carried away with studying, that's why you made me wait for so long. Is my presumption correct?"

"Who cares if they're correct?" Hermione said. "That was no reason for you to go and trip me." She was very ready to slap him on his pale pointed face, but she managed to control her anger and satisfied herself with glaring at him full-force. Malfoy had never seen her as the primitive barbarian she was with her two best friends, and she wanted to keep it that way. No use humiliating herself just because of a stuck-up Slytherin pure-blood.

"Correction, Granger. I didn't trip you. You tripped on your own robes. I just helped do it."

Hermione rolled her eyes impatiently. "You know what, shut up. This conversation is getting us nowhere," she said. "Just—just give me the cloak so I can go." She made a grab for it but Draco pulled it away. "Malfoy!" she shouted. "I have got no time for your stupid games! Just hand the damned thing over!" she reached out again, and once again Draco pulled it out of her reach.

"No way, _Mudblood_." Draco taunted. He called her by that name for the fun of it. What better way to irk Hermione Granger than to call her a Mudblood. "After making me wait for more than ten minutes you expect me to be nice and give this to you? You have got to be kidding me."

Hermione rolled her eyes again. "Expect you to be nice? Never in my entire life, Malfoy. But I expect you to give me the cloak. Give it," she commanded. "Or I will take points from the Head Boy himself for stealing other's property." She tried not to grin as Draco's smirk faded. She knew exactly what he was thinking at that very second. He was thinking about what his father was going to say if he learned that Slytherin lost points because of the Head Boy.

Reluctantly, he handed the cloak over to Hermione, who was trying not to look very pleased with herself.

"Now that wasn't too hard, wasn't it?" she said as sweetly as she could. She arranged the bag she was holding and draped the cloak over her shoulders, making her seem like a floating head. "G'night, Malfoy." She turned her back to him and covered herself entirely with the cloak, fixing it around her until not even her bushy hair could be seen.

Draco stared at the doors that seemed to open and close by themselves as she exited the Hall. He had just been beaten by a Mudblood. A igirl/i Mudblood. How humiliating was that? He glared in her direction before exiting the Great Hall himself and heading towards the Slytherin dungeons.

"Your ever faithful servant has come… huh… ever faithful, he says…"

The words said were heard as a hiss, but he understood it perfectly, nevertheless. He turned to face the snake lying on the hearthrug behind him. _"I know, Nagini,"_ he hissed back. "_I can sense him_." As he said these words, the door in the room opened, and in came a short man. He had a balding head that made him look as if patches of his hair had been pulled out. "Wormtail," he said, addressing the man who had just entered.

"Master," Wormtail replied, falling to his knees and kissing the hem of his Master's robes. He lifted his head from the floor, but remained kneeling with his head bowed down.

Lord Voldemort motioned to the man kneeling before him. "Rise, Wormtail," he said. He stood watching as Wormtail rose from his position and dusted off his knees. "What news is there?"

Wormtail raised his head and faced Voldemort, whose eyes were red and slitted, almost like a snake's. "Master, Avery's son has graduated. He is ready for the initiation of the Dark Mark."

"Good, good," Voldemort said. He paced up and down, hands held together behind his back in contemplation. "What about Hogwarts? Is there any news about Dumbledore's plans? I know he is doing something to prepare for his fight against me."

"None, My Lord," he said. "Our spy is already in the building itself, listening in on the teacher's conversations, though he says the teachers do not say anything of importance in the corridors. He says Dumbledore occasionally calls some of them into the Headmaster's office, but it is heavily guarded with many spells. It is difficult to force his way inside without raising any alarm."

Voldemort managed a smirk. "Typical of Dumbledore to do that. But no matter. We'll find a way through that." He called Wormtail to come forward. "Come here and give me your left arm." He held out one bony hand, waiting.

Wormtail stood hesitantly, but went to his Master and complied anyway, holding out his left arm. He felt his own eyes widen with fear as Voldemort folded his sleeve upward, pointing his wand on the Mark on his left forearm. He didn't even hear what Voldemort said. He only felt the searing pain on his arm that made him wince. He could feel hot tears blurring his vision, until Voldemort broke the wand's contact with his skin.

One by one, popping sound surrounded the room. Wormtail wasn't able to see them properly for he was still dizzy with pain, but he knew who they were.

Voldemort smirked. "Come," he called. "My Death Eaters."

Next Chapter:

Insults, Draco's talk with Voldemort, and a New Death Eater adds to his inner circle. Oh yeah… reviews are pretty much welcome!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Draco opened his eyes to find himself looking at the green hangings of his four-poster, breathing shallowly as if he had been running meter. He put an arm over his eyes and found that he was sweating.

There he goes again, Draco thought. _Shit. Why do I have to see him in my dreams?_ He sat up and threw his blanket off his body. The sudden change in temperature made him shiver for a moment. He got off his bed and made his way to the bathroom, where he began to splash cold water on his face.

He stared at his reflection on the mirror. For a fleeting moment, he had the urge to smash the mirror to pieces. His eyes grew cold with hate as he recalled Voldemort's snake-like face. He shook his head stubbornly. _I've made up my mind. I am not siding with a thing as repulsive as you, Voldemort,_ he thought as he splashed water over his reflection, causing his face to look like it was deformed and shaky.

He glared one last time at the mirror, seeing not himself but the Dark Lord, before going back to bed to resume his sleep.

"Yeah, well guess what. I'd visited Grawpy durin' v'cation, an' he's got a girlfriend!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at the Hogwarts gamekeeper in shock.

"G-Grawp has a girlfriend?" Hermione asked with a gulp. She tried her best not to look afraid or disgusted, lest she offend Hagrid.

"Yeah!" the half-giant said, his face positively beaming. He turned his head to the class behind him, glancing at the students who were busy tackling Kompos. "Her name's Ruuda. Nice lil' lady. Speaks a good 'mount o' British, so we got along quite well."

The trio tried not to look horrified when he said "nice lil' lady." They knew only too well that "nice" and "little" for Hagrid meant "terrifying" and "enormous" for normal people. Hagrid was well known for his intense liking for monsters and hazardous creatures.

"Hagrid," Harry said. "Where is Grawp staying now?"

"Eh? He's in tha' mountain over there," Hagrid replied, pointing to a peak not far off the west side of Hogwarts. "Ruuda says they've bin thinkin' o' getting' some young 'uns. I can't wait! I'm gunna be an Uncle!" He put down the bucket in his hand with a clang. "Well, I better dismiss yeh kids. Go on!" he said to the class. "Put 'em in the pen. Tha's it. Lead em gen'ly then yeh may go."

Harry, Ron and Hermione led their own Kompos into the large pen built on the boundary of the Forbidden Forest. Picking up their bags and books, they waved a goodbye to Hagrid and set off for the castle.

"Imagine that, though," Hermione murmured worriedly. "They're just a mountain away. If Ruuda gives birth to many children, it'd be a mountain of giants. What a disaster!"

"Honestly, Hermione," Ron said; though both he and Harry were nodding gravely for they were thinking the same thing as she was. "You are the only one nice enough to call them children. I think 'monsters' is a more appropriate term. But what do you think their offspring would look like? You think it'd be as repulsive as the troll we saw in first year?" He shivered unpleasantly as he recalled the incident six years ago.

"Ron, they're giants, not trolls. Those are two different things." With that, Hermione launched into an explanation of the differences between the two, and Harry and Ron saw this as their cue to start talking about something else—like the Divination homework they had to submit.

"And besides, though big, trolls are just plain stupid, while giants have brains and can think for them—are you even listening to what I am saying?" Hermione asked in the middle of her explanation.

"Of course, Hermione," Harry said promptly. "You were talking about hsdfiybgddtrollsandgiantszxcvjgb," he said purposely slurring his words to annoy Hermione.

"You see, Herm," Ron started to say. "We actually do liste—aaah!" He opened his eyes and found himself staring at a small worm on the grass. Someone had tripped him.

He heard a snigger to his right, and he, Harry and Hermione turned their heads to that direction. Draco Malfoy was standing not far away, twirling his wand in his hand.

"Bonding with nature, Weasley?" he asked, a smirk on his pale pointed face. "Or is it just because of those feet. Hard life having large ones, isn't it?"

Ron's ears turned red at the insult. "Shove off, Malfoy," he said hotly as he rose to his feet. He glared at the offending blonde in front of them. "What's your problem?"

Draco only smirked at them, and Hermione tried to hold Ron back for he was taking a threatening step towards Draco. Harry on the other hand, looked as if he was in pain. And in pain he was. His scar was throbbing very much that he had the crazy notion that Voldemort was very near.

At the same time, Draco paled. He felt… weird. It was as if there was something inside of him that had just made its presence known. In a moment he knew that it was not a something but a someone. Voldemort has linked minds with him, making Harry's notion true in a way.

"Draco," said the cold voice from inside of him.

Draco could feel the eyes of the three Gryffindors before him. He saw them look strangely at him as his face turned white as a sheet.

"Hello?" Ron called, waving a hand before Draco's eyes, who only stood still. "What's up with Malfoy?" he asked Harry and Hermione, who both shrugged indifferently.

Draco managed to pull himself together and shook his head as if to get rid of something disgusting on it. He glared at the three of them before walking away without a word. He went on and did not stop until he was sure that there would be no one to overhear what would take place.

"Yes?" Draco said. To outsiders it might look as if he was talking to himself, but in fact he was not. "What is it?" He heard the cold voice again just as he finished saying the last word, and this time it was angry.

"Respect, young Malfoy," Voldemort said. "The Dark Lord will not tolerate being spoken to in that manner."

Draco flinched as he heard it. He could almost feel the Dark Lord's anger at his so called insolence. "Yes, My Lord," he said as meekly as he could. "Forgive me for my earlier actions. I shall make sure not to commit the same mistake again."

"That you shall. To speak of what I need of you, I want you to come here tonight."

"Tonight, sir?" Draco asked, slightly alarmed by the sudden arrangement. "But—"

"_Tonigh_t, Malfoy," Voldemort replied sharply, sounding very annoyed. "I do not like reiterating my words. You ought to be prepared to come at your Lord's orders anytime they are given… unless, of course, you are not sincere about your service. You Father was enough of a disappointment. I had hoped you were better." By the tone of his voice, he sounded almost like he knew Draco was not loyal, and it chilled the latter to the bone.

"Of course not, My Lord," Draco declared, shaking his head. Then he remembered that Voldemort could not see him anyway, and stopped himself in mid-shake.

"Very well. I am counting on your presence in tonight's meeting. And bring your Mother along. There is something which I want you to see." Without so much as a "Goodbye," he cut off the connection and left Draco rooted to the spot.

Draco stood still in his place, still slightly shaken and slightly pale. He never got used to having Voldemort suddenly pop into his head, though it has been happening for four years already. It has always been a freaky experience to have him inside his head with no forewarning, whatsoever, and he always hated it.

He shook himself out of his reverie and made his way back towards the castle. If he were to remain standing there like an idiot, someone might come along and ask him why he looked pale. Paler than usual, at least. People loved asking him those types of questions when he didn't have Crabbe or Goyle by his side. Well, either way he didn't have any satisfying answer to say. He probably wont's be able to speak, lest of all tell anyone that the reason he was looking pale was because he had just spoken to Voldemort.

Realizing that he was holding his breath, Draco released it in a warm puff of air. He tried to calm himself by assuring himself that, no matter what, he'd never be a true Death Eater. For now he had to pretend to be a loyal servant until he had devised a plan to sell Voldemort to the Light without suspicion from the Dark Side. For now he had to suffer.

Watch out, Voldemort, he thought. I will get rid of you… one day. And when that day comes you will regret that you ever taught me all those Dark stuff, because they will be the fall of you.

Draco walked down the corridor with his Mother, Narcissa, by his arm. He was wearing a black robe with a skull embroidered on its left side. It was a Death Eater's robe, but since he was not a full-fledged Death Eater yet, the crest lacked the serpent that was supposed to be protruding from the mouth. As soon as the person wearing the robe receives the Dark Mark, the crest is completed and a ceremony is held to welcome the new member into the circle.

He privately wished that the crest on his robe would never have to be completed.

Draco's eyes moved to his Mother as she continued to hold onto his arm. She looked stunning, as usual, in her blood-red satin robe and wavy white-blonde hair. She walked along with much poise and confidence, but he knew his Mother well enough to know that she was trembling inside. She hated Voldemort much more than he did, but she always did a great job of hiding it under her snobbish and bossy exterior.

Narcissa spotted Draco looking at her, and she smiled at her son. "What is it, Draco?" she asked, her voice low and silvery. "Is there anything on my face?"

Draco smiled back and shook his head. "On the contrary, Mother, you look dashing, as you always do." He knew his Mother loved being complimented on her looks, but he did it not just because she wants it but because it was true. If she weren't his Mother, he would have already developed a crush on her, for even at 48 she looked like she was only in her early thirties. "I must say, I have the perfect genes in me. A handsome Father, a ravishing Mother… what more can an equally alluring seventeen year-old wizard ask for?"

The fear in her eyes vanished for a few seconds as she laughed, her eyes twinkling. "There is no need to flatter me so, son."

"But, Mother, it is not flattery. You really do look great. I've told you that since I was small, and you know that you do look good. What is the use of denying it?" He saw the fear return to her eyes as they neared the door at the end of the corridor, and he turned his head so that he was facing it. He squeezed his Mother's arm reassuredly. "Don't worry, Mother. I will not let anyone in that room touch you."

Narcissa squeezed his arm in turn. "I know, Draco. But you know how much I despise your Father's friends, and I would readily give all our Galleons away if I could be assured that our family would never have to be associated with those people ever again."

Draco nodded to show that he understood. "But be careful, Mother. If anyone learns of that secret wish of yours, chances are it would be less likely to happen. They would make sure of that." He paused just outside the door, one hand resting on it. "Are you sure you will be okay?"

Narcissa smiled and nodded, and Draco pushed open the door.

Many pairs of eyes stared at them as they entered, but only one pair in the middle of the room commanded his attention. And that was Voldemort's.

"Draco," said the Dark Lord in his cold and menacing voice. "How nice of you to join us. And you too, Narcissa. I had begun to think you would never come." He gestured to the crowd before him. "Join us, Malfoys. You are just in time."

At his words, as if on cue, a door to his right opened and out stepped a young man followed by two Death Eaters. The boy couldn't have been more than 20. He had sandy-blonde hair, a square jaw and two black intense eyes. He had an evil look about him, and Draco had a hard time trying to decide whom he looked like.

"Witches and Wizards," Voldemort started. "We have here the son of our very own Mr. Avery. He just graduated from Durmstrang, and is here before us to officially become part of us. In a few moments time, he will be receiving the Dark Mark, the first ever since my return." He turned to face Gerald Avery, who did not flinch at all as he faced the Dark Lord. "Come forward, Avery."

Gerald immediately complied, stepping up to Voldemort without the slightest hesitancy. As soon as he reached Voldemort, he fell to his knees and began kissing the hem of his robes, as he had seen his Father do countless times. This pleased Voldemort.

"Rise," he ordered.

Gerald stood up and faced the Dark Lord who held him by the chin as if to examine his face. Feeling that he had to impress Voldemort, he put on a cold expression. Not directed to the man in front of him, of course. He just wanted to make sure that he did not look intimidated but instead looked evil.

Voldemort smirked. He nodded at him and let him go. "Of course, you have to prove that you are indeed worthy of the Dark Mark." He turned an eye on Wormtail, who stepped aside and revealed a good looking woman who had been hidden behind him.

For the first time that evening, Gerald had a look of fear in his black eyes. He recognized her. She was his own mother, bound and gagged right in front of him. He saw the look of intense fear in her brown eyes mirroring his.

Voldemort watched the exchange between mother and son with his red snake-like eyes. "You know who this is, don't you, Gerald? Yes, your beloved Mother."

At these words, Draco turned to look at his own Mother. She had one hand covering her mouth, her face a mask of mixed horror and pity. He put a hand on her arm, and she turned to him with fearful eyes. He just stared at her, but he knew that she understood what he didn't dare voice in that room. _I will never let anyone do anything like that to you._

"Kill her."

Voldemort's voice called their attention back to what was taking place before them, and Gerald looked into Gerald's face to see his reaction. So did all the other people in the room.

Gerald closed his eyes for a brief moment. It was very hard for him. He loved his Mother very much, and he would give anything to trade her for another girl to kill. But he can't. Opening his eyes, he nodded to Voldemort, then faced his Mother, whose eyes were wide with disbelief. He raised his wand and pointed it to her heart.

He met her eyes for a second, and he smiled at her. A genuine loving smile. "I love you, Mother," he whispered, his voice low and slightly cracking. "Thank you." Putting on a determined face, he opened his mouth and muttered _Avada Kedavra._

A jet of green light escaped his wand and went straight for his Mother. Before she realized what was happening, she was dead and stiff. Walking over to his Mother with a pained expression that he tried to suppress, Gerald put a hand over her open eyes, and wiped them down to close her lids. He knew that the look on her face as she died would haunt him forever.

Voldemort nodded triumphantly at the slightly forlorn looking young man. "Well done, Avery," he said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Now stand back. I will be giving you your Mark." He placed his hand into his pocket and extracted his wand, pointing it to Gerald. As he muttered a few words, a black mist began to surround Gerald, and the boy could be seen wincing as if in pain.

He finished the chant with the word iMosmordre/i, and the mist disappeared. Gerald seemed to have grown weak and fell to his knees, one hand clutching his left arm. He brushed his sleeve upward and on his arm, glowing a dark green, was the Dark Mark.

Voldemort stepped up to Gerald and took his arm, examining his handiwork. "Welcome, Avery, to the world of the Death Eaters." He let go and fixed him with a stare, as if waiting.

Gerald fell to his knees again and kissed the hem of his robes once more. "I am grateful, My Lord, that you have accepted me. I promise to serve you with unwavering loyalty." He kept his head bowed as he said this, afraid that Voldemort might see his sad and regretful eyes if he looked up.

"Rise," Voldemort said, and he did so, making everyone see that the crest on his robe has been completed. "And face your audience. Get used to them. They will be your comrades from this point on."

Gerald and Voldemort parted, each mingling with the other Death Eaters. At once the room was filled with quiet conversations.

"Let's get out of here, Mother," Draco whispered into Narcissa's ear. He tugged at her arm lightly and she followed him out of the door.

They disapparated back to the Malfoy Manor without so much as a word, until Draco left his Mother on the doorstep.

"Are you sure you will be okay, Mother?" he asked. Frankly, he was concerned. But Narcissa only smiled and kissed her son goodbye. Once she shut the door, Draco disapparated to Hogsmead, where he started his walk back to Hogwarts castle.

As he made his way to the Slytherin dungeons, he couldn't help but think of himself at his own initiation. Would Voldemort make him murder his Mother, too? Or would he make him kill someone else. A muggle, hopefully. Or maybe even one of the Weasleys. It shouldn't be that hard to kill a member of the family he hated the most. What with their stupid red hair, their stupid friendliness crap, their stupid love for one another…

Draco grinned wryly. He almost sounded like he was jealous of the stupid family. Well, he was not. And there will never be a Weasley murder, courtesy of him, at any rate. Not if it was on Voledmort's orders. Because he will never receive the Dark Mark. He will never allow himself to be ordered around by an ugly Dark Lord such as Voldemort.

Draco opened the door to his dormitory and collapsed on his bed, his eyes closed. It was a tiring night. He began to fall asleep, but he suddenly heard a loud snort from the opposite side of the room. Sitting up angrily, he took one of his pillows and threw it in that direction, where Goyle was snoring very loudly. He fell back to his bed again and fell into deep sleep, his own light snores buried under Goyle's muffled ones.

Next Chapter:

More insults, Hermione comparing Harry and Ron, and the move… to the Head suites, that is. :P Reviews!!!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

She opened her eyes ever so slowly, hardly daring to believe where she was. Once again she was in that dark, hollow, endless space. Cold. Lonely.

Standing up she surveyed her surroundings. Nothing new. It was still dark as far as the eye could see. No other sign of life. There was only her, one lone and miserable girl in the middle of it all.

Why… she thought, feeling the tears pooling in her eyes. _Why am I back in here? I thought I had already left this place forever…_

She began to glide about, searching, hoping against hope that she would encounter something other than nothing. But her search was in vain. Well, at least it seemed so. There was absolutely nothing. Nothing at all.

She hated having to return there. How did she even get to that place? Who would want to be somewhere isolated? It's not like she asked to be put in such a place. What crazy person would?

Of course, I'd get out somehow. I always do.

With these words, she began to search again for a way out. It had been a myriad of colors the other time, a black pit before that, and her own reflection before that. There has to be something similar this time that could help her get away from this place. Permanently.

She thought she heard a sound much like a whisper. It wasn't very audible, but she heard it. But of course she heard it. How could she not when it was too quiet and noiseless in there? Nevertheless, she doubted if it was true and if it was only her imagination.

She heard it again, and she turned to her left where the sound seemed to have come from. There was something there. Thinking that it might be the way out, she began to run as fast as she could, the whispers ringing in her ears as excitement flooded through her. She knew now that she did not just imagine it the first time.

She slowed her pace, staring at what was before her. There was a long dark area in front of her, darker than what was around her. It was almost pitch black in there, but she saw something moving about inside. Her eyes widened as the figure became distinct. She was staring at her reflection, only it wasn't her. The girl she saw looked exactly like she did, but was wearing black clothing.

Slowly, a grin formed on the other girl's lips, her mouth opening to say something.

Draco sat on his worktable, writing a letter to his Father. Although he didn't like what Lucius had done for the Dark Side, he still had to make sure that he did not look any less loyal, so he still wrote regularly to him. But he never visited Azkaban, oh no. His treasure trove of awful memories would surely attract the Dementors very much.

He stopped to think of what else to say. He had already written about crap like hating Potter and wanting his dear Father out of prison to take care of wonder boy. Of course, it wasn't entirely crap. The part about hating Lucius was true enough. He can't say he was excited to join their club and was looking forward to it, for it would be too easy to guess that it was a lie. He never said it at home, so there was no reason to say it now.

Sighing, he finally scribbled down about Avery's inauguration, finishing the letter with a "_Mother and I are really looking forward to your return._" He read his letter again to make sure that he had not written anything that he shouldn't have.

_Dear Father,_

How are you? Of course, there was no point in asking. I know your life has been miserable ever since Potter got you in there, the annoying git. He is as meddlesome as usual. Always everyone's favorite. I wish you were here to take care of this.

Classes are unusually difficult this year, what with our NEWTs and all. All the Professors have been keeping us so busy I hardly have any time to sleep. And I have all these Head Boy duties to attend to at the same time. As much as teachers think Granger is all responsible, she hasn't really done much as the Head Girl. Honestly… Gryffindors…

Mother and I attended Gerald Avery's inauguration last night. He was made to kill his own Mother right in front of us. And the Dark Lord seemed impressed with him because he did it without hesitation. Frankly, I was impressed that he did not back out.

I can't say much in case the owl is intercepted. Mother and I are looking forward to your return.

Your son,

Draco

Satisfied with his work, Draco folded the piece of parchment and inserted it into an envelope, sealing it with the Malfoy crest in green wax. He stood up from his seat just as Goyle woke up, staring blankly at the pillow that he found on his head. Putting on a robe, Draco went for the door.

"Where are you off to, Malfoy?" Goyle asked groggily, making him sound more stupid than usual.

Draco didn't bother with a reply. He just raised the letter and showed him to whom it was addressed. If Goyle was stupid enough not to understand what it meant, it wasn't his fault. Why did the gods even bother creating such airheads as the Crabbes and the Golyes?

He clambered out of the Slytherin common room and ascended the stairs that led the way out of the dungeons. It was still early in the morning, so it was no surprise to him that he met no other students in the halls. But he did meet Peeves, and before he even got close to the Owlery he was already pissed as hell. Having a poltergeist enumerate his shortcomings and re-enact his "white bouncing ferret performance" during fourth year was not his idea of starting a day right.

He was surprised, though, when he saw that the door to the Owlery was wide open. He went in through the doors at once and immediately wished he hadn't. Of all people to come across with, it had to be Potter and his two aspiring pets. All three of them were hunched over a piece of parchment, laughing as they read it.

"Pipe down, will you," Draco said loudly, cutting through their little moment of joy. "Can't you laugh without managing to wake up the whole school with your voices?" He walked towards his midnight black owl which was perched in one corner of the room as he talked.

All three heads snapped up at the newcomer's voice, and their eyes narrowed all at the same time.

"Can't anybody laugh in here without his majesty, the bouncing white ferret, interrupting?" Ron countered with a glare. "And as far as I can see, no one else is here. Unless, of course, you can see others we can't, Malfoy. Is poor Draco hallucinating now?"

Draco's nose crinkled in annoyance as he heard them laugh again. "Better a majestic white ferret than a distasteful weasel like you," he said. He tied the letter securely to his owl's leg, holding his breath and anticipating another retort. Fortunately for him, neither of the three were in the mood to mess with him right then, and he relaxed his shoulders at that. He didn't feel like having a confrontation with them either. In a moment, he heard their ridiculous laughter again.

He rolled his eyes and sighed, leaning in to whisper to his owl, "Vladimir, take this to my father in Azkaban." Before letting his owl loose, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few owl treats, allowing Vladimir to eat a while. He smiled. Feeding his owl always made him feel calm and contented, and it was one of the few moments when he felt happy, though he'd never dare admit such a thing to anyone.

He watched his owl take flight before turning to the sound of the laughter. He was surprised to see Hermione looking at him. She wasn't glaring at him or anything of that sort, but just staring at him with genuine interest and curiosity. Too bad for her, he didn't like being observed, so he threw her a scowl.

"I know I'm handsome, Granger, but, really, staring at me like that is so not you. It's pretty freaky, to tell you the truth," he said, unable to resist irking her. "I can't blame you, though. None of the Gryffindor boys are blessed with devilishly good looks as I have."

Harry and Ron looked up at this, glaring at the offending Slytherin. They continued to look at him that way until Draco turned and left the Owlery, leaving the place quiet again.

As soon as Draco was gone, Hermione's scowl dissipated. It was weird, but for a moment it crossed her mind that maybe the Draco Malfoy they knew was not the real Draco. When he thought nobody was watching his bird, his face just changed from cold and passive to soft and gentle. She knew that his smile at that time was truthfully tender, and it was hard for her to imagine that such a kind smile could turn into the unbearable smirk that he always let them see.

She was brought back to reality as Harry nudged her at the side, telling her that he already felt very cold and that they should probably already go. Standing up, she shook her head to gather her thoughts and clear her mind. She walked out of the Owlery with Harry and Ron on either side of her, scolding herself privately along the way.

Honestly, what were you thinking, Hermione? Malfoy, nice? Ha! You have got to be kidding. Not in a million years would that ever happen…

"What's up with you, Hermione?" Harry asked, cutting through her thoughts.

Realizing that she looked awfully serious, Hermione's face eased into a smile. "Nothing. I was just… thinking.

Ron snorted in a good-natured manner. "Of course. How can Harry forget that? You were thinking. That's Hermione, always working her brain into a fit." He grinned and shook his head. "Honestly, Herm… staring at Malfoy like that. What got into you?"

Hermione laughed to cover up the blush that threatened to appear. "I told you, Ron. I was just thinking. You know how I get when I'm thinking. It just so happened that I was staring in Malfoy's direction." It was not exactly a lie. She had been thinking. But she was not about to admit that it was mainly about Malfoy.

Harry grinned as he watched Ron grunt. _Of course, Ron… jealous again_. He put a hand on both of their shoulders. "Anyway," he said, stopping Ron from speaking. "We've got a lot more time before the house elves start serving breakfast. What do we do now? I'm not exactly in for going back to bed."

"Well," Ron started. "I do have something in mind. I saw our broomsticks yesterday, Harry. Can you believe they are buried under tons of dust and cobwebs? I didn't see any spiders though, if you were wondering. But really, I think the broomsticks are in need of a maintenance check. Who knows what terrible things dirt can do to them."

Harry chuckled. "I get you, Ron. But you didn't have to exaggerate so much. 'Tons of dust and cobwebs…' it's only been two days since we last flew them." He turned to look at Hermione, who put on a bored expression. "Geez, Hermione, don't get too excited," he joked. He knew that Hermione liked broomsticks in much the same way as Hagrid hated dragons, which is to say so not true. "It's just Quidditch. No need to get all hyped up. Are you coming?" His green eyes twinkled with laughter as he invited her, knowing only too well that she would decline.

"Really, Harry," Hermione said, trying to suppress another blush as she looked at Harry in the eyes. "You know I'd love to come, but Professor McGonagall wants me to meet her in her classroom. As much as it pains me, I cannot accompany you two."

Ron laughed. "Right." He slapped Harry lightly on the back. "Come on, mate. Let's just hope Hermione doesn't get too bored speaking to Professor McGonagall." Laughing, he and Harry took off for the Quidditch changing rooms.

Hermione stood still for a while after they had gone, trying to tame the beating of her heart. She knew that Harry thought she was better off with Ron, but she had her own idea of who was right for her. She liked Ron a lot. He had been her best friend for six years already and she knew almost everything about him, but she didn't think she could take on Ron as her boyfriend. Ron had a really bad temper, and usually, between him and Harry, Ron got into more fights with her.

Harry on the other hand had a less explosive temper. Nice, caring, compassionate Harry was always there for her. He probably did not know of it yet, but she had been harboring a major secret crush on him for three years already. His list of good qualities just goes on and on and one cannot leave out the fact that he was The-Boy-Who-Lived. In her opinion, a girl would have to be insane to not like him in even the smallest possible way.

Hermione shook her head as if to clear it of cobwebs, and in a sense she was doing just that. Just as cobwebs on a doorframe hinder a person from proceeding through it, the cobweb in her head that she called Harry hindered her brain from functioning clearly. She had to stop daydreaming, so she quickly made her way to the Transfiguration classroom, where Professor McGonagall was waiting for her to arrive. While it seemed like the elderly Professor's call for her was not exactly urgent, she did not like being kept waiting for long.

She paused just outside the classroom door to catch her breath. Standing straight, she knocked softly on the door. A muffled "Come in" came as a reply, and she pushed the doors open to admit herself inside. Sitting on the teacher's table in the middle of the room was Professor McGonagall, looking as grave as ever with papers in her hand.

"Miss Granger," she said. "A good morning to you. I'm glad you could come this early in the morning." She motioned to the chair in front of her desk. "Please do sit down."

Hermione nodded and sat down opposite of her teacher. "Good morning, Professor," she said in what Harry and Ron would have called her 'sickeningly goody-goody voice.'

McGonagall nodded back. "Please wait for a moment. I have to finish these papers for Professor Dumbledore."

Hermione sneaked a glance at what the Professor was doing, at the same time replying with an "Of course, Professor." The papers looked as if it were a proposal of some sort, much like what she had seen her Muggle cousin, who was the President of her school's student council and stayed in the Granger family household, which was very near her school, bring home a number of times. She watched as the Professor signed the bottom of the parchment, affixing the Hogwarts seal beside it.

McGonagall arranged the papers on her desk, shuffling them and placing them in a neat pile to one side before facing her student. "I am sorry for having kept you waiting, Miss Granger," she apologized. "Do you want anything to drink?" at this Hermione shook her head and the Professor proceeded to tell her what their meeting was about. "Now, as you very well know, the Head Boy and Head Girl get to live in different rooms from the rest of the student population. Well, Professor Dumbledore has decided that it is time you move to the Head Suite. We've delayed the move for a week because we have been doing some changes to the appearance, and now it is complete." She fixed Hermione with a stern gaze. "I know this is quite sudden, but do you think you could move in now? At the most, you can have until tomorrow to move your belongings from Gryffindor Tower. Mister Malfoy has already been informed, and I believe he has started moving in already."

Hermione nodded at the Professor and smiled. "Thank you, Professor. I think I will move in right now."

McGonagall smiled back. "Very well. Your room is on the East Side of the castle, in the corridor containing the statue of Frederick the Frivolous. That statue is the very entrance to your room. Do you know the place?"

Once more, Hermione nodded for what she felt was the hundredth time. She tried to keep her head from bobbing too much in excitement. "Yes, Professor," she said.

"Well, then, off you go," McGonagall said, waving her quill to the door. "Your password is 'Crystal Drops.' I'll send some house elves up to your room to help with your things…"

"Oh, no, Professor!" Hermione hurriedly said, trying not to cringe at the mention of help from house elves. "There's really no need," she continued. "I can manage by myself just fine. Besides, I haven't unpacked much yet, so there's really nothing much they can do to help." She put on a smile and hoped that the Professor bought her act. The truth was, though she gave up on S.P.E.W. a few months back, she still had a soft spot for the tiny creatures that help around the school, and she always tried to lessen their workload by refusing to accept help in anything that she can do by herself.

McGonagall gazed at her for a while, and then sighed. "Very well, Miss Granger," she said, turning to the papers on her table. "If you insist. You may go now."

Hermione stepped out of the classroom and hurried to Gryffindor Tower, hardly able to conceal her smile. She had been waiting for this moment for quite some time, and now it came at last. She could imagine herself in her very own bedroom. A bedroom with no Parvati or Lavender to giggle over boys, fashion, and magazines. No more late night gossips between her roommates and other room hoppers to disturb her sleep in the middle of the night.

She swung her dormitory door open and promptly went in, ignoring the looks that her dorm-mates gave her. She walked over to her dresser and puled out two large beach bags. In one bag she placed all her clothing that have not yet been washed. In another bag she placed her books, extra parchment, quills, ink bottles and all else that had to do with schoolwork.

"Hermione," Lavender spoke just as Hermione opened the trunk that lay at the foot of her bed, stuffing her unused uniforms and robes along with the muggle jeans and shirts that she had brought along with her. "What's with the packing?"

Hermione directed a smile toward the other girl as she snatched her pillows and stuffed Teddy Bear from the bed. "I'm moving to the Head Girl's quarters," she said excitedly. "I can't wait to see how it looks like!" As she said this, she took the family photo that was standing on her study table and carefully placed it in between a couple of pillows to make sure the frame doesn't break. Once this task was accomplished she scooped up the remaining items on her desk and put them in her trunk, shutting the lid and securing it so that it would not accidentally come off, thereby spilling its contents.

A small "Oh" formed on each of Parvati and Lavender's faces at her words. "You mean you're leaving?" asked Parvati, her hands unconsciously flipping through the September issue of _T.E.E.N. Witchies_ she was holding. The cover girl scrunched her face as Parvati's fingernail jabbed into her nose.

"Well," Hermione said, straightening up. "You can say that. I'll still be visiting Gryffindor Tower, of course. The only difference this will make is that I will be staying in a different room in the East Side of the castle." She extracted her wand from her pocket and pointed it at her luggage. As she muttered _Wingardium Leviosa_ to levitate her bags, she took one last good look at her dormitory. For the first time in the six years that she stayed in that room, she noticed the beauty of it, though it may be beauty somehow unusual that some people would find it weird instead. She turned to her four-poster and thought of how much she would miss lying in it at night, with its slightly creaky legs but clean sheets and soft mattress.

Last of all, she turned to her two roommates. "It's be different not having you guys in the same room with me," she said, addressing both. Though she was not close friends with them at all, she realized that she would miss hearing their voices as they giggled and chattered each minute they spend in the room. Then again, she wouldn't miss the giggles all that much, come to think of it. She breathed out and smiled. "I best be off then," she said cheerfully. "It was a nice… experience having the two of you for roommates."

Parvati and Lavender smiled back at this. "That's too bad. We were really looking forward to bonding with you this year!" Parvati exclaimed. "Lavender and I realized it's about time we changed our goal of the year from getting Draco Malfoy to notice us to getting you to relax with us."

"I have an idea!" Lavender said. "You must promise us that we can visit you in your room when you have the time."

Hermione nodded. "Of course. You're always welcome in my room. And maybe we can accomplish that goal of yours." She waved a goodbye at them and flicked her wand to make her belongings follow her. "I'll see you in class."

Parvati and Lavender waved back at her before turning back to the magazine they were looking at.

When Hermione got down to the common room, she saw that only Dean and Seamus and a couple of third years who looked like they were up to some mischief were there. They looked up at her as the girls' dormitory door opened, and Dean and Seamus stared at her bags.

"Where are you off to, Hermione?" Seamus asked. "Some lucky guy convinced you to elope with him?"

"Haha, Seamus," she replied. "I'm moving to the Head Girl's room. Harry and Ron are in the Quidditch Pitch. If they get back here before I do can you please tell them."

Dean nodded. "Sure… but does that mean you won't be staying here anymore?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Come on, now, Dean. Percy was a Head Boy and he still spent most of his time in here than in his room, forcing us to go to bed early!" She smiled. "I'll be doing the same, of course." She walked to the common room door and paused. "Don't forget to tell Harry and Ron, okay? Thanks."

"Sure, Hermione. Will do," was the last thing she heard before the Portrait door closed. Turning to her left, Hermione walked down the corridor and descended the stair, all the while thinking about the advantages of having a separate room from the rest of her Housemates.

P_rivacy_, Hermione thought as she turned a corner. _No more gossiping freaks to go through my personal belongings at night, hoping to find out about my love life, or lack thereof. And goodbye to those annoying room hoppers from other year levels_. She pictured the Gryffindor common room and thought of how much she would miss the parties that were second nature to Gryffindors. _Of course, that would mean peace and quiet in the evenings. Maybe I would be able to sleep peacefully now_. She went down another flight of stairs and rounded another corner, finding herself in Frederick the Frivolous' corridor. She quickened her pace and reached the statue in no time. She paused, eyeing the statue.

Lastly, no more noise during study time. I would at last be able to do my homework in peace and quiet, with nobody to interrupt and ask me questions every two seconds. She muttered the password to the statue and it hopped out of its place to reveal the door behind it. She held the knob and turned it easily, pushing the door open, feeling very happy that no one would be distracting her from her schoolwork.

"It's about time you arrived."

Hermione stopped in her tracks. Did she just hear—nah. Shaking her head, she stepped back and pulled the door shut, and then opened it again to make sure she did not imagine the voice.

"Granger, you look stupid doing that, just like Crabbe and Goyle. Stop it."

Good feelings gone.

"Malfoy, what are you doing in my room?" she snapped. He wasn't visible in her line of sight, but she'd recognize that lazy drawl anywhere. She swept into the room and shut the door behind her as soon as her bags were inside. With a flick of her wand all her belongings thudded on the carpeted floor.

Draco sighed, standing up from the armchair he was sitting on. "Then again I had the feeling you were always pretty stupid."

Hermione rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore the insult. "I asked a question and I expect to be answered," she said angrily. She had been ecstatic about moving in, and then Malfoy came and ruined her mood.

"Granger, are you sure you've read Hogwarts: A History s good many times like you claim? " he drawled. "I'm fairly certain I've heard you mention that to Potter and Weasley many times.'

Hermione looked at him with a puzzled expression. "What are you talking about? What does Hogwarts: A History have to do with you being in my room? I definitely don't remember anything about any Draco Malfoy being in the Head Girl's common room without permission." She folded her arms across her chest and stared, waiting for him to give an answer.

"What I'm saying," Draco said as-a-matter-of-factly. "Is this is the Head Girl and Boy's common room. In other words, we're sharing it." He shrugged at her and sat back on his chair. "Get used to it, Granger," he said, closing his eyes and resuming the posture he was in before she came.

Hermione stood in her place. Indeed there was something in Hogwarts: A History that said the Head Boy and Girl share common rooms. In her excitement she had forgotten about it. Recovering from her initial shock, she sighed disgustedly. _Why?_ she thought. W_hy Malfoy? Why a Slytherin? I would have gotten along well from anyone from the other Houses but Slytherin_. Sighing resignedly, she whispered _Wingardium Leviosa_ and directed her bags to the oak door with the initials HG in gold letters on it. Before she could turn the knob, she heard Draco's voice again.

"Oh, and Granger," he said. "We share bathrooms, too. I bet you just love having to share it with a pureblood. But make sure you don't leave your Mudblood bacteria in it. And don't touch my stuff. My toiletries are worth more than all your robes combined. From the state of your robes, I'd say they're pretty expensive. Well, for Weasley standards, anyway."

Hermione entered the room and dropped her bags inside. Before she shut the door, she took her time to glare in Draco's direction. She knew he couldn't see her, but she knew he was smirking. She could feel it. _Typical pureblood_, she thought. _He's probably looking smug all over his pointed face right now._ Angrily, she shut the door with a loud slam, and she didn't see Draco jump from his seat in surprise. If she had, maybe it would have put a smile on her face.

A/N: Took me such a long time to post the chapters 2-4, I know. Actually it was because I was having my exams. Well, partly. Mostly it's because I don't get to connect to the Internet much these days. Well, that's about to change!

I've only just written until Chapter five, and I haven't even typed that yet. Hopefully I would be able to finish chapter six after chapter five is posted.

The line there by Ron that said "Can't anybody laugh in here without his majesty, the bouncing white ferret, interrupting?" was inspired by a line from the classic _To Kill A Mockingbird _by Nelle Harper Lee. And the line is this: "Can't anybody take a bath in this house without the whole family lookin'?" the last sentence in the 29th paragraph of Chapter 12 of the story. I love Jem, don't you?

Oh yeah. The quote "Good feelings gone" was taken from the movie _Finding Nemo_. I was watching it while I wrote this chapter and it occurred to me that it fit rather well in that part!

Next Chapter:

Good Old Voldie is back in action, Harry's scar hurts like hell, and a Prefects' Meeting with the Head Boy and Girl. Not much, but so far it's the longest chapter I've ever written. And reviews!!!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Ron cut a piece of apple pie with his knife. "So now you mean to say," he said to Hermione without taking his eyes off the plate. "That you are sharing a room with that git Malfoy?" He raised his eyes from his plate long enough to glare at the Draco, who was looking in the other direction, oblivious to the death stare being presented him.

"I think you misunderstood me, Ron," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "We're not sharing a room, per se, but we are sharing a common room. Oh, and did I mention we were sharing a bathroom?" She was about to leave that last bit out, but decided to say it anyway just to get a rise of the redhead.

Ron almost choked at his pie at the words, and Harry patted him on the back. "You're sharing a bathroom with Malfoy?!" he asked, trying to keep his voice as low as he can. "But, Hermione, he's Malfoy! You can't share a bathroom with him! Who knows what's on his perverted mind! Who knows what he wants to do to you!"

Hermione sputtered on her Pumpkin juice, almost spraying the second year sitting across her with it. Fortunately, the girl ducked in time. "Really, Ron!" she said, trying hard not to laugh. "I didn't say we were using it at the same time! I said we were sharing it. It means were taking turns in using it. And how do you know he's perverted? From the sound of it, you're the one thinking dirty thoughts." She brought her goblet of juice to her lips and drank, hoping that Ron would not make a comment that would make her spit her juice out again.

"That's right, Ron," Harry said. "Besides, even if Malfoy did try anything—" at this Ron's eyes narrowed at him, and Harry quickly added, "Which in my opinion, is very unlikely judging from his well known hatred against muggle-borns, Hermione is sure to have a hex ready to use on him. Honestly, do you really think Hermione would stand still and allow him to violate her? She's not a whore, you know."

Hermione covered her ears with her hands. "Harry! My ears!" she said. "I am not denying what you said, but I am still here, you know. I'd appreciate it if you don't say such things again when I'm around." She removed her hands and looked pointedly at him, her eyes narrowed though there was laughter behind them.

Harry smiled apologetically at her. "Of course, Hermione. I was just trying to point out to Ron that you are not that sort of person."

"Yeah, and I got your point," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "But, really, such crude words Harry. Couldn't you have thought of a different term?" He spooned some more pie in his mouth and chewed on it.

Harry would have said something, but his reply was cut short by the loud tinkling of a spoon against a goblet. The sound brought the attention of everyone in the Great Hall to the elderly wizard sitting in the middle of the staff table.

Professor Dumbledore stood up from his seat, half-moon spectacles glinting in the sunlight that came in through the windows. "Good morning to everyone," he started. "I have some announcements for today. First, we have been here for only one week, and yet it seems that a lot of students have already misplaced many of their belongings. I would like to say that the Lost and Found items are in Mr. Filch's office. If you go there you will find a whole cabinet full of them. There seems to be a journal in there with the initials M.S. as well as a camera which, I have reason to believe, belongs to one of the Creevey brothers. Please claim them as soon as possible."

A soft buzz broke out in the Great Hall, and students everywhere were murmuring things like "So that's where it went" and "I hope Filch hasn't touched it with his grimy hands." Harry shook his head. It was highly possible that the caretaker has gone through every object in the cabinet, seeing that it was in his office. And he would just love to catch a student doing mischief in school. Surely he would be tempted by the many items lying in wait for their owners.

"Second," Dumbledore said, his voice louder so that it would be heard over the noise the students were making. "To the Head Girl and Head Boy, please hold a meeting with your Prefects tonight to determine who will be patrolling which corridors during which nights. The Prefects' office is not available as of yet, due to the renovations we are doing on it, so if would not bother the Heads I am asking that you hold it in your quarters. That will be all." With that, he sat back down on his chair and engaged in a conversation with Professor McGonagall.

Normal conversation resumed just as the Headmaster sat down, and Hermione' sigh was unheard under all the noise. "I was planning to visit Gryffindor Tower tonight," she said wistfully. "I guess now it's out of the question." She finished the last bit of her bread after saying this.

"Don't worry, Hermione," harry said to her. "Ron and I readily forgive you for being unable to go to Gryffindor Tower tonight. Right, Ron?"

Ron nodded and swallowed the last of his pie. "Hermione, just make sure you and Malfoy don't go kissy kissy in front of the Prefects tonight," he said in the tone of a man who didn't trust his wife alone with her male colleague.

"Of course, I'll make sure, Ron," Hermione replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I mean, I have the sense to not 'go kissy kissy' with Malfoy in front of an audience. I do know the meaning of the word 'privacy.' But I can't seem to make up my mind. Do we use his bedroom or mine?" she asked seriously, smirking as Ron's ears went red. Surprisingly, Harry was not smiling either, and it made her feel uneasy. "Alright, alright!" she said. "I surrender. You know I was just kidding around!"

Harry's face lightened considerably, but Ron remained a little sulkier than him.

"Oh, come on, Ron," Hermione said, assuming an exasperated tone. "This is no way to start a fine Sunday morning." She rose from her seat and motioned for her two best friends to do the same. "Come on. Since I don't have the time to visit you guys later, we might as well make good use of our time this morning." She smiled thankfully as Harry stood from his seat, followed by Ron.

Smiling, she linked arms with both of them, steering them out of the Great Hall. She led them out to the Hogwarts grounds, talking of how difficult their first week back at school had been and how much she anticipated their upcoming NEWTs. Sometime during her speech, Ron chuckled, and she turned on him, asking what was funny.

"Really, Herm," he said, his expression easing into a smile. "Of the many people I know, you are the only one who thinks that talking about NEWTs is the perfect way to start a day.

Hermione smiled back and said, "Well at least it got you talking to me again, didn't it? Now, what were we talking about? Right, the subjects we take for our NEWTs. From what I've heard, they change the subjects covered every year. There are the basics, of course, the ones that are always on the tests. Potions and Transfiguration are included. Defense Against the Dark Arts, too, if I remember correctly. There are some others… but, anyway, have you two started studying yet?" she asked, turning to her two friends. By the looks on their faces, she knew they hadn't yet started on anything. "Harry, Ron… we're taking the tests during early March! Don't you think it's about time you started reviewing our past lessons?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Come on, Hermione," he said with a look of mixed mock annoyance and sheer amusement. He put out a hand and pulled her him and Ron. "You expect us to review our past lessons when we can't even find time to finish our homework?" He waved his arms around for emphasis. "Are we or are we not studying in the same year? I mean, by how you act, you have already started studying for our NEWTs, and yet you still finish your homework ahead of everyone else. Not to mention you have Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Muggle Studies, which Ron and I don't have. How do you do it?"

Ron stopped walking, his lips forming the word "oh." He turned to Hermione with a questioning look, which she returned. "Don't tell me you're using that Time Expander thing again behind our backs, just like you did four years ago." He stared at her up and down, as if expecting to see the object hanging somewhere on her body.

"Ron, stop staring at me like that!" Hermione said, hitting Ron lightly on the head. "It's freaky. And it's called a Time Turner, not Time Expander. What's a Time Expander supposed to be? Something that adds hours to a day? Hmm… I admit, it might just work as effectively…" She pulled them both to a nearby rock that overlooked the lake, seating herself on the ground and leaning back onto it.

"So," Ron said after he settled on top of the rock, one leg dangling off the edge and the other brought up against his chest. "Are you using the Time Turner or what?" he asked, looking at the girl seated below him. For a moment his breath caught in his chest at the sight of her.

There was a soft breeze that ruffled her hair a little, and the sunlight made her brown locks shine almost gold. The sun's reflection on the water played shadows and lights across her face. As she brought up her hand to brush a stand of hair away from her face, she opened her lips and spoke, though he never heard what she had said. He was busy staring at the way her lips moved as she spoke that he did not notice she was speaking to him until Harry nudged him in the ribs.

"Huh?' he said, turning to Harry with a puzzled expression. "That hurt. What's your problem, mate?"

Hermione shook with silent laughter, and Ron turned to her. "I said I wasn't using the Time Turner or anything of that sort." She looked at Ron, who seemed to have forgotten their previous conversation. "Oh, Ron, you didn't think I was using a device to help me get by my studies, did you?" she asked, misinterpreting the look he gave her.

While Hermione was speaking to Ron, Harry leaned himself on the rock for support. He was starting to feel dizzy and the images before his eyes were staring to blur. His scar had also began to throb. Bringing up one hand against his forehead, his eyes flew open as he began to see visions.

There was a family of three: a father, a mother, and a baby who was about a year old. They looked perfectly Muggle, living in a neat house in the city, the sound of vehicles from the streets clearly audible from inside. They looked like a very happy family indeed. It was clearly early in the morning as the sunlight streamed in through the windows and bathed them all in a rich glow as they were smiling and laughing. To Harry, it seemed that every family should be like this.

"Table… mother, table…" The soft sound escaped the baby boy's lips as he pointed to the center table in their living room.

"That's right, Ben," his father said, ruffling Ben's hair with his hand in an affectionate way. "That's a table, and this one here is a sofa," he said, pointing to the red furniture that the three of them were sitting on. "A sofa, Ben. Say 'sofa.'"

Ben the baby held on to his mother as he bent his head to better see what he was sitting on. "Jopa," he cried happily, pointing to the carpet. "Jopa! Jopa!"

His mother laughed at him. "No, Ben. That's called a carpet," she said, letting one finger touch it for emphasis. "This," she said, patting their seat. "Is a sofa. Sofa. It's not a jopa, baby." She turned to her husband. "What is a jopa, anyway?"

The man laughed at this. "I don't know, Jade. I'm afraid I don't speak gibberish."

A flash of light and their front door burst open. Standing outside were three robed figures, one of them with a metal arm melded onto his limb. The one standing in the middle stepped into the threshold, and a very cold wind accompanied him from the outside.

While Ben's parents were indignant at the sudden intrusion, Ben himself seemed ecstatic at their grand entrance. "Jopa!" he said, trying to reach out and touch the man nearest him.

"Shush, Ben," his mother, Jade, said at the same time his father, Mike, shouted, "Who are you and what do you want? Building this house cost us a lot, and you're wrong if you think I'd let you walk away without paying for the damage you've done!"

The man who entered the house grinned oddly and let a laugh escape his lips. It was a horrid, cold laugh, and it made the hairs at their backs stand on end. "Foolish Muggles," he said in a voice low and threatening.

"Muggles?" Mike asked incredulously. "And what the hell is that supposed to be?" He shook his head. "You know what, forget I asked that. Just step out of my house and fix my door before I call the police!"

The hooded chuckled again. "Muggle police? I don't think so. I've seen them, and they're all either stupid or corrupt—"

"I know how police are!" Mike said as he tried to protect his wife and son by keeping them safe behind him.

"Well, then, if you know how they are, what's the point on calling them?"

He chose to ignore this. Little Ben seemed to have sensed the danger of their situation, too, and he soon fell back to crying as his mother tried to soothe him. "What I want, is for you to step out of my house. Oh, and to fix my door too." To his surprise, the man did fix the door. One minute the door was on the floor in splinters, and it was fixed and on its hinges the next. Mike stared open-mouthed at them. "W-What are you people?" he asked. There was no way the door could have been fixed in less than two seconds. The man had only pointed a stick to the remains of their door and then it was done.

"We are wizards, my boy, and we cannot leave your house yet because I do not want to have to hit you with a memory charm," the man, who was Voldemort, stated simply. "Besides," he touched Ben's forehead his pointing finger, using his other hand to block Mike. "I need your son…"

"NO!" Jade screamed in anguish. "You can't take him! He's my baby!" she tried to use her hands as a shield between her and the man, but he was obviously too powerful for her. "No!"

The man's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Shut up, woman!" he said fiercely to her. "I need to see if your son is strong enough to channel his life to me." He touched Ben's forehead again, this time chanting something under his breath. Jade only whimpered and Mike tried to struggle against the two other hooded men who kept him pinned to the floor, for that was all they could do.

A grayish sort of mist glowed where the man touched Ben, then it flickered and faded. The man withdrew his hand and shook his head mournfully. "Your son is a sickly child. He does not have the sufficient life force I need."

"If we needed to know if our son was sickly, we would have asked the family doctor to come over, not a psycho!" Mike said angrily. He tried to kick his captors, but found that he could not budge an inch. Something like luminous green rope was wrapped around him. "Hey! Take these off me!"

The hooded man narrowed his eyes at Ben's father, then smiled coldly. He held out his hand, with which he was holding what Mike thought was an ordinary wooden stick. "Finite Incantatem," he said. A whitish light came from the tip of his wand, and freed Mike from his bindings.

"What the…"

The man looked at him. "I have no use for you anymore." Before Mike could come up with a reply, the man had already muttered the Killing Curse, and he fell dead on the floor. The man then faced Ben and his mother, who had an expression of fear. Pointing his wand at them, he said the Killing Curse once more, and both mother and baby fell lifeless to the floor, just as Mike had.

The man, Voldemort, pointed his wand to the ceiling and muttered one final spell. "Mosmordre." Green light emanated from the tip of his wand, shot upward, past the ceiling, and out to the sky. He disappeared out of the house with a faint popping sound, and his two minions did the same, leaving the three dead bodied lying on the floor.

Outside, people were gathering around the house. There, like fireworks that froze in place during the middle of the day, was the Dark Mark, shining a bright green in contrast to the blue sky.

Harry… Harry…

"Harry! Are you okay?"

Harry opened his eyes slightly and found two blurry figures staring down at him that reminded him of Ron and Hermione. He groaned as his scar pulsed again. His head felt as if it was about to split open, and he felt a hand touching it before he fainted.

"Ron!" Hermione shouted a little panicky. "He's out and burning hot! We'd better take him to Madame Pomfrey!" she barely heard Ron's reply as she magicked a stretcher from the air. Harry rarely got a fever and fainted at the same time, and she was worried that there was something awfully wrong going on. She didn't even realize that they were already in the hospital wing until Madame Pomfrey accidentally bumped her in her hurry to get to the patient.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Ron asked as he studied Hermione's facial expression. Now that they were already in the infirmary he wasn't panicking all that much anymore, though Hermione still was.

Before Hermione had a chance to reply, Madame Pomfrey shooed them out. "He needs some rest," the nurse reasoned. "Though I don't know how he could get such a high fever. Was he like this at all this morning?" she asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No. He was perfectly fine."

"We even flew our broomsticks this morning," Ron added. "It wasn't that cold and I don't see how Harry could have gotten sick because of it. Besides, harry rarely gets sick."

"You think I don't know that, Mr. Weasley?" Madame Pomfrey snapped irritably. "That's exactly what I'm worried about. He's a regular here, but the only times he goes here into the infirmary is after an accident of some sort or after he has had and encounter with You-Know-Who!" She stood thinking for a while, then seemed to remember that she was supposed to be showing them out the door and began to fuss again.

Before going out, Ron and Hermione took one last look at Harry. What Madame Pomfrey had said gave Hermione an idea as to why Harry fainted.

Could Harry have seen the Dark Lord?

Harry opened his eyes slowly. Where was he? Looking around the bright interior of the room, he recognized the pristine white curtains of the infirmary beds._ Strange,_ he thought. _I don't remember getting here. But then again, I don't usually trudge up here to get myself examined and treated. I always seem to just wake up in here._ Pulling himself up to a sitting position, he relived the vision that he saw earlier that day.

"Voldemort…" he muttered under his breath. He brought up a hand to his temple and massaged it to ease the throbbing. "God, what did you do?" he didn't understand what Voldemort needed with the family. He remembered something about a life force. But wouldn't it be easier to get an adult to give up his life? Adults are stronger than babies, after all. Babies are really fragile, adults are not. Well, except the elderly. But the man in his vision wasn't that old yet. In fact, the man was probably just about in his late twenties. So was the woman.

As he was pondering Voldemort's motives, the curtains that hid his bed from view were pushed aside, and the elderly Headmaster stepped closer to is bed. "Mr. Potter," he said. "It is good that you are awake. May I speak with you for a moment?"

Harry looked up at the Headmaster and thought, _Well, I must say that, for someone so old and busy, Dumbledore sure has great timing. _He sat up straight and looked at Dumbledore in the eye. "Of course, Professor. Have a seat."

The Professor pulled a chair from nearby and seated himself. "Now, Mr. Potter, I heard you have an unusual fever…"

Hermione and Ron sat together in the Great Hall for dinner. Hermione had spent her afternoon drawing out schedules and lists for the patrolling Prefects, while Ron tried to catch up with his homework… by "referring" to Hermione's. Unsurprisingly, he gave up trying to understand it halfway and spent the rest of his time playing Wizards' Chess and Exploding Snap with his sister, Ginny. Harry, in the meantime, remained unconscious in the hospital wing.

"So, Ron, when do you plan on returning the notes that I lent you the other day?" Hermione asked as she reached for the jug of Pumpkin juice. "I hope you haven't yet crumpled and torn them in your frustration."

Ron looked at her with an expression that she couldn't quite describe. He looked faintly hurt at her words, but amused at the same time. "You seem to believe that I won't be able to understand the lessons in your notes," he said. "I may not be as good as you, but I'm not exactly dumb, you know."

Hermione giggled and tried to swallow her potato before answering, lest she choke on it. "I didn't say you were dumb and that you wouldn't get it." She took a swig of Pumpkin juice to push the food down her throat. "But, the thing is, everytime you borrow notes from me they end up looking like a hundred or so manticores just ran over them."

"Of course not!" Ron exclaimed indignantly. "I return them to you looking just the way they did when I got them." But his ears pinked even as he said those words.

Hermione nodded sarcastically. "Right, Ron," she said, slicing up the steak on her plate. "What about that time when my notes were torn in half?" She looked sideways at Ron, whose ears turned pinker. "Or that time when there were scribbles on them that looked strangely like 'What on earth is _pi_?' Or that time when the time when the papers were completely crumpled and blotted by something that looked horribly like spit? Or what about—"

"I got your point!" Ron cut through her sentence. " Stop it. So maybe they get a little damaged… okay, a lot. I admit I get frustrated easily when I'm trying to do my homework." He put some steak into his mouth. "You know, all this talk about homework has made me hungry." He reached for the gravy and poured some over his steak.

Hermione glanced at him suspiciously. There was something in the way he acted that told her something already did happen o her notes. "Ron, what happened to my papers?" she asked suspiciously.

"Really hungry, Herm," Ron said instead, stuffing more potatoes into his mouth. "Let's just eat and leave the topic."

She continued to stare at him, but decided to just drop the topic. There was something more important than homework, contrary to what her friends might think she thought. "Alright," she said, turning back to her food and eating silently.

Ron looked uneasily at Hermione. She rarely let a topic drop abruptly, and there was a nagging at the back of his mind that told him there was something else bothering his best friend. He let it on for some while, thinking that she would speak up at any time. Finally, when he couldn't take it anymore, he rounded on her and demanded to know what she was thinking. "Okay, Herm, what gives?" he asked, putting his fork down on his plate.

She finally faced him and looked at him squarely in the eye. "Ron," she said, not sure how she was going to tell him about it. "I was thinking…"

"I surmised as much," he replied, pushing his plate further away. Somehow he felt that she would be telling him something really important, and the thought of food suddenly seemed inappropriate and sickening. "Speak up."

Hermione sighed, but resolved to tell him her thoughts no matter what. "It's about what Madame Pomfrey said earlier," she started. Seeing that he was paying far serious attention to her than to any of their classes, she continued to speak. "Remember she said that the only reasons Harry goes to the hospital wing are either he got into an accident or because he had some sort of encounter with Voldemort—oh, grow up, Ron. Anyway, he hasn't had any accident this week yet, were sure of that. His fever was not caused by any bad incident in school."

Ron stared at her for some time. 'So you mean to say you think… You-Know-Who has something to do with this?" he asked, and frowned as Hermione nodded at him. Her words did make sense, and he didn't know what to make of it. It did seem to be a reasonable explanation.

"Think about it, Ron,' she continued. "Harry collapsed on the ground. He wasn't exactly saying anything intelligible, but we know he was in pain. He was clutching his scar, Ron. He was holding it with his hand, and we know that he's linked to Voldemort through his scar." She paused. A few people had begun to stare at them, and she realized she must look crazy, waving her hands around and saying the Dark Lord's name out loud. She put her hands down onto her lap and lowered her voice. "Anyway, it's the only explanation I can think of. The only way we can make sure is to ask Harry himself."

Ron nodded grimly. "Right," he said, rising from his seat.

"Where are you going?"

"Where do you think?"

Hermione looked at him oddly, then shook her head and smiled. "Are you sure you don't want to finish your steak?" she asked as they both strode out of the Great Hall. She didn't really expect an answer, so it was all right with her when he didn't provide her with any. Together, they ascended a flight of stairs to the second floor. On no time at all they found themselves standing outside the glass doors of the infirmary. From where they stood, Harry's bed was visible, but there were curtains around it that they did not know if he was still unconscious.

"Hermione," Ron said, grasping her wrist just as she was about to enter the doors. "What would you do to me if I told you I accidentally magically erased all the text that used to be on the notes you lent me?"

She only rolled her eyes and said something that sounded to him like "I knew it." Without another word on the matter, she pushed the doors open and entered. She led the way to Harry's bed and pushed aside the curtains so forcefully that the posts shook and the bed's occupant jumped at the very sudden movement.

"Hermione! Ron!" Harry blurted out, holding his hand to his chest. "God! There's such a thing as knocking, you know!" he put his hand down as his breathing slowed to normal, "It took you such a long time to come and visit me."

Hermione sat on the chair beside his bed while Ron sat at the foot of the bed. "Sorry for not knocking on the _curtain_, then, Mr. Potter. Really, I didn't know that was possible. I wouldn't have been able to do it. You really are one of a kind." She held a hand to his forehead as if to check if he still had a fever. Seemingly satisfied by his temperature, she put her hand back on her lap.

"Well, aren't we sarcastic today," Harry said with a grin.

"She's been getting really good at it year by year," Ron added.

"Don't think I didn't notice."

Hermione rolled her eyes once again. "Go on. Talk about me, why don't you. I don't mind." She glanced at her best friends, who had fallen quiet. "Anyway, Harry," she said. "We're here to ask you something. What really happened? Why did you faint? Did it have anything to do with Voldemort?"

Harry smiled. He admired Hermione for her ability to formulate an explanation with only a couple of information and observations, and he wasn't surprised that she had already found out what really took place that morning. "That's a lot of questions, Hermione. But you're smart as usual," he said. He saw a shade of pink tint her cheeks. "Yes, I did."

Hermione looked blankly at him, as if she had forgotten what they were talking about. "You what?" she asked. Both Harry and Ron peered into her face, and she felt herself blushing under gaze. "Oh, right. You saw Voldemort?" She wanted to hide her face behind her hands. It wasn't like her to lose track of what they were talking about. But Harry nodded at her anyway, so she decided against it.

"Look," Harry was saying to them both. "I don't know what's happening, if it was a premonition or if I was seeing the present, but I saw Voldemort murder three Muggles." He began to tell them all that he saw in his vision, and they both listened attentively to his account. "This thing hasn't happened to me for over a year now, so I don't know what to make of it," he said after telling them his story. "But I do know that this is not a good thing at all, obviously." He sighed and settled back on his bed, resting himself on the pillows stacked neatly behind him. "Of course, I already told Dumbledore everything. As a matter of fact he just left, and he said he was going to check on it right away."

Ron shivered involuntarily, as he did everytime their conversation was about the Dark Lord. "But what would You-Know-Who want with the Muggles? Unless, of course, he did it merely for fun, and I don't see how there could be fun in that."

"He said something about some life force thing. Voldemort (Ron flinched) wanted to see if the baby was strong enough to give his life or something. The whole Wizarding World is well aware that he has already risen, but he is also very weak. The only thing different about him is that he now has a body which he does not have to discard. He doesn't have to go migrating from one body to another from time to time. And he does not have to worry about overworking and overusing his body."

"So why didn't he check on the baby's dad and mom first?" Ron interjected. "I mean they are obviously more capable of giving him strength. If he wanted someone with enough life to transfer to him, he could have just took the elder ones." He stared directly at Harry, who shrugged and gave a look that clearly said he knew no more than the former did.

"That's exactly what I thought, too," Harry said. "Dumbledore said he had an idea, but he had to go check first."

Hermione, who had remained quiet throughout the whole story suddenly spoke. "I have an idea," she offered. Both boys turned their heads to her, waiting for her to speak. "A baby, being very young, is very much innocent about almost everything in the world. The mind is not corrupt, the body is in complete order, those kinds of things. And adult, on the other hand, is already very knowledgeable and experienced. And older, of course. The younger the mind and body, the stronger the life force. And the younger the donor of the life force, the easier the transfer of strength. By the state he is in, I imagine Voldemort wanted someone very young with a very strong life force."

"But the baby was sickly," Harry added, comprehension dawning on his face. "The baby was sickly and Voldemort—"

"Stop it, Ron! It's getting annoying!"

"—Voldemort found it out by pointing his finger to the baby's forehead and doing some sort of magic. He expected the baby to be a strong, but he wasn't, so he just killed the whole family." He looked up from his clenched fists and into Hermione's face. "You're a genius, Hermione!" he said, noting how her cheeks pinked again at the comment.

Hermione punched him playfully on the arm. "Shut up, Harry," she said, though the tone of her voice assured them that she highly appreciated and believed that comment.

"Come on, Harry," grinned Ron. "You had to tell her that. Her head is too big already, in case you haven't noticed!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Thanks, Ron. That comment was the best thing that anyone has ever said to me." She glanced at her wristwatch and promptly jumped up her seat. "Bugger! I almost forgot about the Prefects' meeting!" She placed a hand on Harry and Ron's hands, fighting the urge to run off and let herself blush red and explode. She can't even touch Harry anymore without feeling queasy! "I have to get going. You go get well, Harry. And you have to give me back my notes, Ron. See you guys tomorrow." With that final word, she set off out of the infirmary and to her room.

As she was walking up the stairs she fumbled with her bag to find the parchment that contained a list of names that she had written down. She was almost afraid that she had lost it, when she fished them out of her bag just as she reached the top of the stairs and landed her foot on the right corridor. Sighing, she went over to Frederick the Frivolous (or Freddie, as she came to call him) and muttered "Crystal Drops." Freddie jumped off, bowing in her direction, and she pushed open the door.

All the Prefects were already waiting, but the other "important" person was nowhere to be seen.

"So sorry you decided to show up, Head Geek," Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin Prefect snapped as soon as she got in the door. "I was beginning to hope you'd never come."

Hermione dismissed her with a roll of her eyes and looked around. "Where's Malfoy?" she asked. They all shrugged, indicating that they hadn't the faintest idea, except Pansy.

"Checking up on Draco?" she asked smugly. "He's not your boyfriend."

Hermione, immensely irritated, faced her with a stony expression. "I know that, and I don't care, but I seem to have missed that part that said you were his girlfriend." All the non-Slytherins grinned at this, glad to see Pansy brought down. "Or maybe you were having dreams at night where you and Malfoy are engaged. There's a difference between dreams and reality, Parkinson, but you don't seem to know it."

She heard a snigger by the door and saw Draco there, leaning against the wall. Without meaning to, she let her eyes roam over his body, admiring his whole profile. She never really paid any attention to how Draco Malfoy looked like, but when she did she was surprised at how much he had changed. When she first saw him at the Hogwarts Express six years ago, he had looked like a pale, scrawny, sickly boy who had a face so pointed that you could have popped a balloon with it. Now… now he was different. The edges of his face had smoothened through the years, making him look less like an enlarged Eagle's beak on a human neck while retaining much of the roughness that it had held. His broad shoulders held muscled arms that were faintly visible even under his robes. His legs had also grown longer, connected to his upper body through a slim waist. She knew that his waist held abs that were enough to knock a troll off its feet, not that she'd seen it, of course. All in all, she had to admit that he deserved being called one of the hottest boys in the whole school.

Hermione inwardly slapped herself. What was she doing? She was checking out Draco Malfoy in front of eight Prefects! As she raised her face to make her look less guilty, her golden-brown eyes met his own silvery-blue ones and she was unable to hide her blush.

"No need to fight, girls," he said, and she was infuriated to see that he was grinning right at her. "There's plenty of me to go around." He pushed himself off the wall and strode over to the center of the common room to stand beside her.

Hermione scoffed and looked sideways at him. "You're just so full of yourself, aren't you, Malfoy?" She had meant to leave it there, but, apparently, Draco didn't have that in mind.

Moving closer to her, he whispered into her ear. "And that's why you were staring at me, isn't that right?" he said quietly just so only she can hear.

"Shut up," she said. She unfolded the piece of parchment as she said so and cleared her throat. "Okay, we're here to schedule the after-curfew patrols. I have in my hand a list that I have come up this afternoon—"

"_You_? Why didn't you tell me about this?" Draco interjected.

"—and if anyone has any objections with the arrangements, consult me only after the whole list is read—"

"_Excuse me!_ I thought this was a _partnership_ thing?"

Hermione sighed, rolled her eyes, shrugged and turned to face him in one movement. "Well," she said. "I would have told you about it, if you didn't slack off and go directly to Hogsmeade right after breakfast. And maybe we wouldn't have this argument right now if you didn't ignore me this morning while I stood at the Entrance doors and shouted myself hoarse trying to make you get your elitist arse out of your carriage and back into the castle to help me with this."

Silence followed this while she and Draco glared at each other, except for something that sounded to her like Pansy saying, "Oh, you two fight like an old married couple!" in her fake sweet tone of voice.

Draco smirked at Hermione coldly as he moved away and sat back on the floor by the fireplace. "Fine," he said, waving a hand. "Just go on. Don't mind the slacker."

Hermione stared at him disbelievingly and would have made a comment, but decided that the Prefects wouldn't want to see them in another row. Ignoring Draco, she faced the Prefects again. "Okay, let us proceed. We are having two people every evening, one to patrol from 9:00 to 10:30 and the other from 10:30 to 12:00. You and your partner decide who will be taking which shift. Now then, Pansy Parkinson and Terry Boot, you have Mondays in the Charms corridor and the Astronomy Tower. Ginny and Justin Finch-Fletchley, you get Tuesdays in the Entrance Hall and the Great Hall. Umm… Padma Patil and Tristan Glenayre, you are on Wednesdays in Moaning Myrtle's corridor and in Cherion the Crooked's corridor. Dean and Millie Brackhart, you guys get Thursdays in the Kitchen corridors and the area around the South Veranda. Malfoy and I take Fridays in the dungeons and in the third floor corridors and stairwells."

She raised her eyes from the parchment after reading it out and looked at each of their faces. "Does anyone have any objections?" she asked. She spotted Padma scowling more than usual, her foot bobbing up and down irritably. "Yes, Padma?"

Padma's foot stopped bobbing abruptly and she rose to her feet angrily. "Why do I get to work with the Slytherin?" she asked haughtily. "As a Ravenclaw, I deserve better than slime like him."

Hermione tried hard not to roll her eyes at the girl and throw anything at reach into her haughty face. While Parvati, her twin sister, was very nice and very tolerable despite her gossiping nature, Padma herself was very annoying. But as much as she wanted to smack her, Hermione smiled sweetly. "Well, you didn't seem to think so when you were dating him, did you." It was not a question but a statement. "Now, see here, Padma, you can't let your personal problems get in the way of your duties. I placed you with Glenayre because I know that you won't be comfortable with any of the others, anyway, and he is the only one among the seven who you can stand to some extent."

Padma scowled at her for a long time. She wanted to say something, but she can't think of anything sensible. Finally, she sat back down on the couch and crossed her legs, intent on not looking at anyone.

Hermione inwardly grinned. "Okay," she faced the whole assembly. "Before I let you all go, I would like to remind you not to abuse your powers. Prefects aren't allowed to dock points from anyone, remember that. And… well, I guess that's it." She waved her hand at them. "You may go now. And I'll alert you as to when the next meeting will be held." She noticed that Ginny hadn't stood up yet even as the others went for the door, so she walked over to her. "Gin, what's wrong?"

Ginny shook her head. "Nothing. I was just looking at that book," she said, pointing to the book on the table entitled _Very Much Mermish_ by the famous 500 year-old mermaid named Zhatena. "I remember reading it when I was small. It's pretty gory in some parts." She laughed. "I just thought I ought to warn you." She stood up from the couch and waved a goodnight. "See you tomorrow, Hermione." She walked to the door and pulled it open to get out.

Hermione stared at the book for a moment. She hadn't read it yet, but she was planning to start that night before she went to bed. Now she wasn't sure if she still wanted to read it. She turned around to pick up her bookbag and was surprised to see Draco standing behind her. She had forgotten that he was in the room with her. "Malfoy! God, don't do that!" she shrieked.

Draco stared blankly at her. "They've gone?" he asked, not caring to step away.

Hermione did that for him she moved back until she felt the couch on the back of her legs. His closeness to her was making her dizzy. "Does it look like they're still here? They left ages ago. Were you sleeping?" she asked. He did look a little disoriented. "Which means you weren't listening! I cannot believe you! It's the first meeting we ever held this year and you expect to be a role model for your Prefects by sleeping through it?"

He smirked and shrugged. 'Well, you did say I was a slacker," he said. "Now, do you want to tell me when my shift is?" He sat on the couch. Spotting the book lying on the table, he reached for it to look closely at the title.

Hermione closed her eyes for a brief second and breathed deeply. As soon as she exhaled her breath she opened her eyes and snatched the book from his hands. "We get Fridays in the dungeons and on the whole third floor."

Draco nodded and raised himself from the couch, walking toward his bedroom. "Right," he said, and he went into the room and shut the door. For a moment everything was quiet, until he shouted, "Did you say _we_?"

Hermione rolled her eyes again, snatched her bookbag from the floor and sought refuge in her own bedroom.

A grin formed on the other girl's lips, her mouth opening as if to say something.

"Hermione," the girl in black whispered.

The other girl, the one by name of Hermione, stared at the other girl. They looked too much alike, both with slightly still bushy brown hair and golden-brown eyes. They had the same build, same height, same oval face, and that was what scared her. "Who are you?" she asked, not sure if she really even wanted to know.

"I…" the girl said. "Am you, Hermione. There are two sides to a person, the light… and the dark. I am your dark side."

Light-Hermione backed away from the dark space at these words, for Dark-Hermione was getting out of it. First came her hands, the contact with the dark mirror-like surface creating ripples, causing Light-Hermione to think that maybe it was a thin film of water. Then an old saying popped into her head: _Not everything is what they seem to be. _She looked up at the person in front of her, who was halfway out of the layer. "Who are you, really?"

Dark-Hermione did not pause, but bent her head down and grinned. "You don't believe me, don't you?" she asked. "I told you, I am the Dark Side of your personality." There was something in her voice that made Light-Hermione shiver, not from the cold. It had a soothing quality to it, smooth and sure. But there was malice and evil dripping from every sound that escaped her lips, a tone that Light-Hermione would never use. "I hold every ounce of evil in your body, in our bodies. You are pure good, because all the bad traits that you should have had are within me. For example, I hold our desire to see Harry strip, you hold the desire to see Harry save the world."

Light-Hermione gasped. "Never," she tried to say. "I would never ever have naughty thoughts such as wanting to see Harry fall naked in front of me. No…"

Dark-Hermione grinned again. "That's right, Hermione, because I am the one who feels that wanting. Like I said, you are all good and I am all bad." She stepped up to Light-Hermione and reached for her hand. "You see, Hermione, everyone has a mission in life. Yours is to keep us, you and me who form the Hermione that is out there in the outside world, good and sane. Mine," at this, she smiled. Not a nice smile. It was a smile that held a promise of evil and trouble. "Is to corrupt you to make Hermione into pure evil. It's just a matter of dominance. The weaker one is overpowered."

Light-Hermione found herself agreeing. The words she just heard made perfect sense, but it made her uneasy. Somehow, she had the feeling that the evil Hermione had the upper hand. Why else wouldn't she know about all this, then? If she were the dominant one, she'd know more than the other did. But, though she felt weak, she would not give in. "Get away from me," she said firmly.

"Oh, I will," laughed Dark-Hermione. "I just wanted to let you know of your current situation. You are losing. If you notice, more darkness has been surrounding you. I'm the dominant one, Hermione, and you are not even putting on a fight. I hate doing something without challenge, so you had better keep me excited by doing what you have to do, which is to turn me good. While you do that, I'll turn evil in return." There she laughed again. "If you can, of course," she mocked. She seemed to grow fainted to Light-Hermione, until she was just a haze that evaporated into thin air. Just like that, she was gone.

Light-Hermione stared at the spot where Dark-Hermione had been standing. Silently, she vowed to defeat her dark self, and she turned, this time disappearing the way the other did.

A/N: Whoot! That was a long one! My fingers are dead sore from typing! I can't believe this chapter reached up to seven pages in Microsoft Word even in font size 8!!! And my butt is numb from sitting in front of the computer all day long! I'm a pretty fast typer, but not that fast, you see. I type faster than my friends, but I can't type without having to look at the keyboard from time to time, so you imagine how much time that takes, trying to see if my fingers are on the correct keys. Moving on…

This chapter is kinda late because I was out for two days. I had a family outing with my (duh) family. It was really nice where we went. The beaches are really pretty and the waters are blue and green in color! The only thing I hated was the sun. It was so freakin' hot that, by the end of the outing, I was burnt!!! I have a very clear tan line on my arm!!! I guess sleeveless tops are out of the question now. Not that I wear much of those kind, anyway. So, because I was gone for two days, I lost two days of typing… and that's a lot of time for someone who can spend only a few hours on the computer when her parents are around!

People!!! Reviews are highly appreciated!!!

Next Chapter:

Not much trouble. Ordinary school life goes on. Oh… and more of the "Oh, his/her body changed a lot these past few years" kind of thing. I just can't bear to leave those parts out!

Gawd… my butt hurts…


	6. Author's note

Hey guys!

I am soooo sorry I only got to post this chapter now. There has been some problem with my pc. It broke down, so I couldn't type or anything. And those stupid cyber cafes near our home do not allow the use of floppy disks on their computers, lest they contain viruses or whatever. Anyway, so that's over now. But then I have a new problem, the internet card I am using is almost used up! Oh dear! And then I couldn't go and buy one with my own money since it's vacation and I don't get my allowance during this time of the year. Oh, wait… maybe I can ask my dad to buy one for me. Or better yet… maybe my dad has some spare card that I can use… hmmm… I'll go check later.

So about the following chapters, I seriously do not know how they're going to look to you guys. When I read what I've done for chapters 6 and 7, which I am half-way through typing, by the way, and what I've written so far for chapter 8, it seems so lame to me. I just couldn't get any good ideas lately. Maybe it's because I'm thinking of school. I'll be taking summer classes this year, you see, and classes will start next week. I've got exactly 7 days to enjoy the rest of my oh-so-precious vacation. But then, it also means I'll be receiving allowance… so I don't know if I should be happy or not.

Oh well, if the chapters turn out bad, just tell me. I'll do everything I can to make the next ones better! That's it, I guess… enjoy!… I hope…

Calene


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Draco woke up at 6:00 in the morning with a huge headache. As he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a clear crystal glass on his bedside table, with a half-empty bottle of Vodka standing beside it. He remembered drinking himself to sleep the previous night for no particular reason at all. He just missed the fine taste of Wizard Vodka on his tongue.

"Maybe a bath would help…" he thought, and he picked himself up from his bed, throwing off the green silk covers that was draped over his body. Barefoot, he walked across the cold stone floor of his room to his door. It was a fine sunny morning and the common room as he saw it was bathed in gold sunlight that streamed in through the glass windows. He stepped past the fireplace, with fire prepared presumably by a house elf, and into the bathroom on the other side of the room, taking his sweet time in doing so. He debated whether to use the bath tub or the shower, and ended up using the shower, thinking that he'd probably only fall asleep if he used the tub.

The first time the water hit his sleepy body, it was cold and it shocked his system into full wakefulness. With the water and the smell of alcohol that had clung to his body, his headache left, leaving his mind clear and ready for some thinking.

He had been late for the meeting the previous night because he was at the Owlery, reading a letter that his Father had sent him. It said:

__

Dear Son,

Thank you for the letter you sent me. You are probably thinking right now that my reply came too soon, but you understand that, as a prisoner, I barely get to speak with anyone other than the stupid Dementors here. It could get very lonely in here at times, so I asked your owl to stay a while whilst I wrote a response.

It is nice to know that you have been fulfilling your duties as Head Boy. I am counting on you to meet my expectations. Be sure that all the work that you do there is fitting for the future that I have planned for you. As for the Gryffindor bunch, never you mind them. You are superior to them in every way, just make sure they understand that particular thing.

I trust by your words that Gerald Avery's inauguration went very well. The Dark Lord must be very pleased to see that his newest member has proven himself worthy of bearing the title of a Death Eater. Let us hope he does better than his fool of a father.

I have received word that my good friend Maxima Flauncet's daughter, Isabel, has been sorted into Slytherin. It would do you good to get to know her. She may only be a first year, but she is as cunning and clever as any sensible fifteen-year-old. You may want to… get acquainted with her, if you catch my meaning.

Lastly, nobody wants me out of here as much as I do. But do not worry yourself, I will come up with a way to get out. You can count on that.

Your Father,

Lucius

Draco had smiled at his Father's comment on the elder Avery. Little did Lucius know that Voldemort thought of him in exactly the same way that he thought of Avery. Both of them seem to be counting on the better performances of the sons over their fathers.

He had also smiled at that news about the Flauncets. He was very well aware that Maxima was not just an ordinary good friend, but was in fact his Father's mistress. He had seen her in Lucius' study more than a couple of times. She was a real beauty, with hair that was almost bluish-black in color and a pale complexion. Her daughter looked much the same except that, while her mother had green eyes, hers was a dark brown. From their profile and mannerisms, Draco guessed that they had Vampire blood somewhere down their line. They have peculiar hobbies, and one of these is getting into different men's pants. That was what his Father had meant by "getting acquainted." Of course, he'd rather get splinched than have an affair with an eleven-year-old.

He soaped and scrubbed himself, rinsing the soap and shampoo from his body and stepping out of the shower. He picked one of the white towels hanging on the rail by the wall. His had DM embroidered on it in green thread, and the other, which was Hermione's, had a red HG. He toweled himself off and then wrapped the cloth securely around his waist.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he had a full view of the common room, and saw that it was not deserted like he had thought. He could see Hermione clearly on the couch, lying on her side with a book cradled in her arms. For some reason, he was oddly drawn to her. He had seen Hermione look pretty, like at the Yule Ball back in Fourth Year, but he was never attracted to her then as he was to her now. Now, when she was wearing no make-up whatsoever. Now, when she was only wearing only a simple pair of pink pajama bottoms and a white tank top, her brown hair tumbling over her shoulders. Unable to fight the pull, he padded quietly across the room to where she was lying, bending his head slightly to be able to see her face.

Hermione had changed over the years. She had grown taller and slimmer, her formerly round face now oval and smooth. She was not beautiful. Oh no, she was far from it, but she did possess her own sort of charisma. There was something about her that attracted the attention of others, and it had nothing to do with beauty. Perhaps it was her bossy attitude, the one that demanded authority. While not really threatening, she can be pretty intimidating at times. Even Draco had to give her that.

Her body was not perfect, either. Even her best friends, Potter and Weasley, would have to admit that Hermione still needed to go a long way before she can get into the same level as Parvati and Padma Patil, physically speaking. Of course, Hermione definitely beat them in brains, as the twins don't seem to have any. Hermione did not appear as stuffy as she used to, either. She can't have stopped the changed in her body, anyway, as she acquired curves in the right places. Thank puberty for that.

Draco was thinking these thoughts while he stared at her when suddenly, as if sensing the presence near her, Hermione's eyes fluttered open. He blinked a few times as she did the same, and suddenly he felt the heat rising to his cheeks. How humiliating! Caught staring at a Mudblood! He pushed those thoughts aside as she backed away from him.

"What are you doing, Malfoy?" she asked, her voice sounding more than just a little freaked out, and Draco was pleased to see that he was not the only one blushing red.

Draco suddenly found that he temporarily lost his ability to speak coherently. For times he opened his mouth again and again, but nothing ever came out. Not wanting to look even more stupid than he probably already did, he pointed to the book in her hand.

Hermione followed the direction his fingers were pointing, and saw that he was pointing to the book. She looked oddly at him. "What about it?" she asked.

"I have the same in my room," he found himself saying. _Well, at least it's better than looking like a fish. _"I was making sure it wasn't my copy." It wasn't exactly a lie. He did have his own copy of _Very Much Mermish,_ and it was really in his room. The thing is, it was not in his room at Hogwarts. It was in his bedroom back at the Manor, atop some shelf in his own private little library.

Hermione looked disgustedly at him. "And what makes you think I would touch any of your books, Malfoy?" she asked. "Really, just because you think I am a muggle-born who is very fascinated with the Wizarding World, and I don't deny that, doesn't mean I'd stoop so low as to take some wizard's books without permission." She stood from her seat and walked to her room to deposit the book inside, before stepping across the room to the bathroom to take her own shower.

Draco's eyes followed her as she pranced about the room. Whatever attraction he felt a few moments ago was completely gone now, replaced with anger and hatred. Pretty or not pretty, Hermione Granger was one of the people who have made his past six years at Hogwarts miserable. Not to mention she was the Mudblood best friend of Weasley, with his poverty-stricken family of redheads, and the Boy-Who-Lived-And-Should-Die-Now Potter. A Malfoy can't go around admiring a Mudblood. It was probably the worst thing that could happen to him.

Shooting a glare at the bathroom door, he turned around to enter his own room and change into his uniform.

At that time, he did not know how true his words were.

"Owl Post!" somebody in the Great Hall announced.

Hermione took her eyes off her Transfiguration essay, the same one she had done three days ago. She was proofreading it since Professor McGonagall had decided to move the due date closer. True enough, when she looked up from her paper, owls of different shapes, sizes and colors were soaring around. She recognized the tawny owl headed for her as one of the _Prophet_ owls, and she extended an arm to let it perch on her. The owl did so, and she proceeded to remove the newspaper tied on its leg with one hand, using her other hand to go through her pockets and find a couple of knuts. The newspaper untied and the knuts placed in the small pocket tied to the owl's other leg, she watched the owl take flight before unfolding the newspaper. She let out a soft gasp as her eyes fell on the front page of the newspaper. There was a picture in black and white color of a muggle house with the Dark Mark glittering above,

"Ron!" she said as quietly as she could. "Look at this: _Muggle Family of Three Found Dead, the Dark Mark Makes an Appearance."_

Ron turned to look at Hermione as she began to read out loud enough for only him to hear.

"Listen here:

__

'Yesterday, September 5, Sunday, at around 9:34 AM, Ministry Wizards received a report on the sudden appearance of the Dark Mark in a muggle house in London. Fearing that it was cast by You-Know-Who, multiple Aurors were dispatched by the Ministry to investigate.

"Pity," Auror Ace Glenayre said to our reporter. "We found two traces of the Killing Curse, one which killed the father of the family and another which killed the mother and the baby. We have not yet found any motive for the murder, but we did find that a kind of Dark Magic was performed on the child. Specialists on this field are currently studying it."

This incident kept Aurors busy throughout the day, casting Memory Charms on all the Muggles in the vicinity. Wizards admit that it had been a rather tiring job, since many Muggles have gone telling the stories to many of their friends and relatives, and a few of them have gone to what they call 'Police.' Of course, these police began investigating as well, creating more work for the Ministry.'"

Hermione scanned the paper with her eyes. "Well, that's the important bit. The others are the accounts of all those old blubbers in the Ministry. Oh, you're father's not one of them, Ron." She passed the newspaper to him for his inspection.

"So," Ron whispered as he flipped the pages of the newspaper to look for more details. "What Harry saw was not a premonition. He was seeing the present." He threw the paper across the table to Ginny, who was interested only in the horoscopes. "I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know, either. You know what happened during fifth year. Harry and us almost died because of the visions he had. How is this any different? It might well be another one of Voldemort's plans to lure Harry away from Hogwarts."

They both sighed and sat back in their seats as they recalled what had happened the last time Harry had visions of Voldemort. Last time, it had been his godfather, convict Sirius Black, who was in the vision. Being the only father figure Harry knew besides Arthur Weasley, he had insisted on going to the Ministry, the setting of the vision, to save his godfather. And, being the faithful Gryffindor friends they were, they had insisted on coming with him despite all that he said to stop them. So they had flown to the Ministry of Magic in the middle of the night to perform their rescue mission, which turned out to be a trap laid out by Voldemort that eventually led to Sirius' death.

"Well," said a voice from behind that startled them both. "If it was just a ruse, I won't fall for the same trick twice."

Turning in their seats, Ron and Hermione saw Harry standing behind them, looking very well recovered. "Harry!" they said in unison.

Harry smiled and moved to the table to sit between his friends, who had scooted over and made space for him. "Where's the paper?" he asked as he looked around the table. He spotted it where Ginny had abandoned it and he got it, staring well at the front page. "That's it, alright," he sighed. "It's the same house that I saw yesterday."

"Harry," Hermione voiced, pulling his sleeve to get his attention. "You _did_ tell Dumbledore about this, didn't you?" she asked. She visibly sighed with relief when Harry nodded to affirm it. "Good, because if you didn't then it means you want to do something about it yourself, which means my we-don't-leave-each-other mode is going to take over again, and I don't want to have another near-death experience."

Both Harry and Ron laughed at this. "Maybe," Harry said to her playfully. "You are saying that I am a threat to you."

"Haha, very funny," she replied. "I am a threat to myself. Aren't you going to eat?"

"Madame Pomfrey already gave me breakfast."

Ron raised his wrist to his eyes and checked the time. "And Madame McGonagall will kill us if we get to her class late," he added. Standing up, he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulders. "We'd better get going."

Harry and Hermione nodded and, after taking one last gulp of Pumpkin juice, set off for their Transfiguration classroom. They reached the classroom just as the Professor stepped out of the adjoining office and they were spared of punishments. They hurried to their usual table and brought out their wands and spellbooks just as the others did.

"Put your books away and your wands out," Professor McGonagall said as she took out her own wand. Puzzled that they won't be needing their textbooks for the day, the class of Gryffindors followed the orders quietly. The next words that came from the Professors mouth cleared all the questions in their heads. "We will be having a review today for your NEWTs," she said. "Let's see if you still remember the spells from years ago."

The class began to mumble to themselves. It was pretty difficult to recall the past spells for there were many different terms to use. All of them began to panic, all except Hermione, who remembered every single spell they have taken up. While the others racked their brains for the spells long forgotten, she remained calm on her seat, chewing the end of her sugar quill silently.

"Now," McGonagall started again. "Who remembers the spell used for turning pets into water goblets?" she asked. She spotted Hermione raising her hand, but she also saw Ron smirking at Harry, and she walked over to him "Yes?" she said, tapping him by the shoulder with her wand.

Ron nearly jumped off his seat. He hadn't expected to be called for recitation. "Um…" he mumbled as he slowly stood from his seat. "_Vera Verto?"_ He wasn't sure if it was the right thing. He was choosing between that and _Fera Fart-o. _However, McGonagall nodded at him and he sighed with relief as he was made to sit down.

"Very good," Mr. Weasley. Ten points to Gryffindor." She stepped away from his table and walked back to the front of the class. "Now, this time who can remember the spell for turning chairs into black widow spiders?"

Once again, Hermione's hand shot upward, narrowly missing Dean, who was sitting directly behind her. "_Lactronida Arachte,_" she said proudly.

McGonagall looked pleased. "Very good, Miss Granger," she said in a more enthusiastic tone than the one she used for Ron. "Miss Granger is one of the only two students in your year who got this question in last years exams correctly. I award Gryffindor ten more points. Oh, do demonstrate the spell to us, Miss Granger," she added.

Hermione smiled to herself and stood from her seat. Looking around, she saw that there was no vacant chair that she could use, besides hers. She sighed, picked up her chair and placed it on her table, drawing her breath as she began the spell. "_Lactronida Arachte,_" she said calmly, waving her wand confidently in the air. With her classmates watching, a swirl of blue mist encompassed the chair. Pretty soon, there was a spider in place of the chair, its black body shining and its red hourglass shaped tattoo gleaming in contrast.

Each of her classmates applauded her, with an exception of Ron who had a phobia for spiders of all shapes and sizes, and McGonagall commended her on her wonderful work on the spider by giving Gryffindor an additional three points. She motioned for Hermione to turn the spider back into a chair for her to sit on, and her student happily agreed.

Hermione, having put own her wand after casting the spell, made a move to reach for it. Just as her fingers curled around the smooth piece of wood, she felt a painful sting on her wrist. The spider had bitten her. Nobody near her had noticed when the spider scuttled closer to her. Ron was busy scowling at Harry, who was laughing at his scared expression while searching his pockets for his wand; no one saw the spider prepare to pounce, and she was caught off guard.

Screaming in pain, Hermione shook the spider off her wrist, and it fell close to Lavender's feet, who promptly dropped a one-inch thick magazine on it, killing it instantly. She barely heard McGonagall as she ordered Harry to take her to the infirmary. Giving a nod of thanks to her teacher, she allowed Harry to steer her away. Wen they reached their destination, she politely insisted that Harry return to class, thanking him for the trouble. Finally convinced, Harry left the room as Madame Pomfrey began to fuss.

"Heavens!" the elderly nurse said as she led Hermione to a bed. "One Gryffindor released not more than thirty minutes ago and another one comes! What have you done to yourself?" She began to apply some purple ointment onto the bite mark. "And you can't have come at a worst time! I have run out of antidote for spider bites! You lie down here whilst I ask Professor Snape if he has any in his stock." She left Hermione sitting on the bed and disappeared behind a door at the back of the room.

Hermione took off the cloth that covered the bite. There was a red mark that looked as if it was turning bluish, though she didn't know if it was only because of the ointment. She couldn't help but think of what might happen to her. She knew that a Black Widow's bite was venomous, but she was not sure if it was fatal. If not, the worst that could happen would be that she could get a really high fever.

Madame Pomfrey's return into the room brought her attention back from the bad things she was thinking about. She was about to ask if she'd be alright when Madame Pomfrey opened her mouth to speak. "Severus has the antidote, thank goodness. He'll have it delivered right away." She went to the cabinet that held her potions and medicinal remedies. "In the meantime, drink this sleeping potion. It's diluted, so the most it can do is make you light-headed enough to forget the pain. Though, having a venomous bite on you, I think it will also make you fall asleep a bit." She handed a teaspoon of it to Hermione, who drank it down.

"Mmm… it doesn't taste anything like the ordinary sleeping draught," Hermione said. "It tastes pretty… good… for a… sleeping draught." She closed her eyes and let her head fall onto the pillows. "I feel… so… tired…"

Madame Pomfrey nodded at her patient. "Exactly how you should feel. You lie down here and wait for the Professor. The ointment I applied on you will delay the spread of the poison from the spider. But it only lasts for twenty minutes. After that, if Severus still doesn't arrive, we'd have to take extreme measures. Let's hope Severus gets here before then." She left her patient on the bed and entered her office to arrange the student hospital records.

Five minutes passed, and Hermione had already fallen asleep. Snape still hadn't arrived with the antidote, and Pomfrey was still arranging records in her office. Finally, the hospital door opened, but it was not Snape but Draco carrying the potion in his hands. At that moment, Madame Pomfrey received an important call from Hagrid, who had been thrashed around by the Whomping Willow. Rushing out of her office, the nurse almost bumped into Draco, who was fortunately gripping the vial of potion with both hands.

"Mister Malfoy!" Madame Pomfrey said irritably. "You should know better than to stand outside my office door like an idiot. Why are you here, anyway?" she asked, looking at him suspiciously. Before Draco could give an answer, she was again speaking. "Go back to class, Mister Malfoy. No, wait, stay here. Since you're here I want you to look after Miss Granger until Professor Snape gets here with the antidote I asked him to bring." She made for the door in a hurry, but Draco shouted after her.

"Stop!" he said. He never liked the nurse much. To him, she was an annoying woman who was always fussing and always in a hurry. "Professor Snape asked me to bring the antidote to you." He lifted his hand to show her the vial he was holding.

Madame Pomfrey sighed and threw her hands up. "Well, why didn't you say so?"

"Well, that's nice," Draco said sarcastically. "If you had given me a chance to speak I could have told you earlier."

The nurse threw up her hands one more time. "Oh, stop being an annoyance, Mister Malfoy! Just… kindly administer the potion to Miss granger in my place. I have to get downstairs. Make her drink the whole vial."

Draco stared disbelievingly as the nurse turned again for the door. "What do you think you're telling me to do?" he sputtered. "I am not going to help you! I'm a Malfoy!"

"And I am giving you orders! Whether you want to or not, you will have to follow me. This is a life and death situation, Mister Malfoy!" she said angrily. "And not one but TWO lives are at stake here. The longer we stand and argue here, the more danger Miss Granger and Professor Hagrid would be in. now, I plead with you to please help me this once."

Draco was about to say that he didn't in the least care about Hermione or Hagrid and that they could both go and die any minute, but the nurse's tone made him think otherwise. "I will not be a regular assistant, you hear," he said crossly, turning away from the door and to Hermione's bed. "I am doing this only because you _begged_ for my help." He heard the door open and close, and he shook his head. He wasn't even supposed to be in the stupid infirmary. He was supposed to be in Charms class, not that he liked that particular subject.

"Stupid Snape," he said under his breath as he walked nearer to Hermione's bed. Snape was the cause of all of this. He had caught Draco on his was to the Charms classroom back from the boy's lavatory, and asked him to please bring the potion to Madame Pomfrey.

"Kindly bring this to the hospital wing, Mr. Malfoy," the greasy-haired Potions Professor had said. "Miss Granger was bitten by a poisonous spider, and Madame Pomfrey asked me for the cure. I have a class to attend to, so do this favor for me."

Draco had refused at first. "I can't," he said the instant he learned that Hermione Granger was involved. "I have Charms to go to." Normally, he wouldn't have refused to do the simple task just so that he could skip a bit of his lessons, but upon learning that it was Hermione in peril, he hesitated. Snape was the Head of Slytherin House, though, so he had to accept the responsibility. He reluctantly took the vial from the Professor and turned the other way to get to the infirmary, not knowing that he will be detained longer than he thought.

"Stupid Mudblood," he hissed at the sleeping student before him. "What is it with you Gryffindors and the hospital wing, anyway? Every year at least one of you would be sent here for one reason or another." Reluctantly, he reached for her head. Slipping a hand under her neck, he lifted her head up and touched the opened vial to her lips. "Hey," he said roughly. "Wake up."

Hermione didn't stir, so he shook her once. After three more shakes he gave up. Taking his hand off the back of her head, he placed the vial of antidote on the small table near them. "Damn Mudblood," he muttered angrily. Taking her by the shoulders with both of his hands, he began to shake her more vigorously than before. Finally giving up after getting no response from her, he stopped and leaned over to see if she was still breathing. She was. "Well, then, Mudblood, if you're still alive then why don't you wake up and save me the trouble of feeding you this potion."

Hermione didn't move still, so Draco tried to get her to drink again. Supporting her neck with his left hand, he raised her head again so that he could pour the liquid down her mouth. A drop of the potion slid down her chin and onto her neck, and Draco pulled his hand back. It's no use wasting the potion. In agitation he closed his eyes and sighed, inwardly cursing Hermione for her stupidity. As his eyes were closed, he felt Hermione turn her head in his hands. Opening his eyes, he stared down as Hermione's own eyes opened to meet his.

A/N: Just in case nobody understands the "Well, at least it's better than looking like a fish" line, it means it's better than looking stupid. You know how fishies are… they open and close their mouths all day. Are they called mouths? I think they're called something else but I cannot remember what it was. Oh, Tom Felton, my fisherman!

I need to buy a new Internet card! This one's almost out!!! Help!!!

Next Chapter:

Hmm… well, Draco and Hermione get friendly, but not intimate, in the middle part of the story. Yeah, that's about it. Oh, and if you hate those instances where they're having fun and then something or someone comes along to ruin it, you might just get annoyed at this chapter. Not so much, though. It's not really that severe. Just slight. You know…


	8. Chapter 7

He stared down as Hermione's eyes opened to meet his.

At her first glance at Draco, Hermione seemed surprised. She didn't expect to see him first thing after she awoke. Sure, she expected to see someone watching over her, but definitely not him. She had imagined someone by the name of Harry Potter to be there. The matter aroused her suspicion, and she stared at Draco with a distrusting expression. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?" she asked. She noticed that he was holding her by the back of her neck, and she suppressed a blush with a little difficulty.

Draco looked really annoyed. "And to think I wasted my time trying to wake you up," he said distastefully. Roughly pulling his hand from under her, he showed her the vial, almost hitting her nose with it. "Here. Take your stupid medicine. Pomfrey said to tell you to drink all of that stuff." He held the vial to her hand and she took it slowly, as if she didn't know whether to trust his words or not.

I mean, he is Malfoy, a totally untrustworthy git. I wouldn't be surprised if this was actually some poison that he made so that I would die faster.

"I didn't know you were a heavy sleeper," he added. "I was about ready to give up trying to wake you and just leave you to die and rot here."

Hermione scowled at him. "For your information, it was a sleeping draught," she replied smugly. "But, then, you wouldn't know the difference between one who's naturally asleep and one who took the sleeping potion, would you?"

"Oh, of course," he replied. "Because they would both be sleeping, would they? Maybe you'd like to tell me how to distinguish a sleeping person from a sleeping person." He shook his head disgustedly. "Why am even having this nonsensical conversation with you? I've already wasted enough of my time here in this pathetic excuse for an infirmary." Turning around, he made for the door. "I won't be responsible if you don't drink that whole thing, by the way." Without waiting to see if she would down the whole vial, he stepped out of the door and began walking to the Charms classroom.

"Mister Malfoy," Professor Flitwick said as soon as he had entered the room. "If I remember it correctly, the bathroom is not that far away. I suppose you have an excuse for staying away longer than expected?" he was in the middle of an explanation about the charms they learned the previous year.

Draco wanted to glare at is tiny Professor, but he found himself saying, "Professor Snape sent me on an errand. If you have any problems, talk it out with him." Okay, so it was just as bad as saying, "I don't care, so shut up," but he didn't know how to undo what he had said. Walking over to his table, he sat lazily on his chair and prepared himself for the sermon that was to come.

Draco wove his way around the many shelves in the library, trying to find a certain book on Arithmancy. He had two homeworks to submit the next day; one is on Arithmancy and one on History of Magic. So far, he had found two books with sufficient information for his History homework. The information he needed on Arithmancy, however, was pretty much more difficult to look up.

He ran a hand through his hair in irritation. "Where the hell am I supposed to find it?" he muttered angrily. He had been looking for anything with the wizard mathematician Krebain Sarcocuss in it for a good fifteen minutes. He was tired, annoyed and sweaty, and still he found nothing that had what he needed. He sighed irritably and was about to move away when his eyes caught a small book in the lowest shelf. It was about a centimeter thick, and the fading title on the spine was almost indistinguishable, but a few moments of focusing and he saw that "Sarcocuss" was what was written on it. Kneeling down, he picked the book, noticing that it was thickly layered with dust.

He blew off the dust and, flipping the pages, found that everything he needed was there. Closing it shut again, he stood up from his kneeling position and walked back to his table. He carefully stacked it on top of the other two books and went to Madame Pince to have them checked out. That done, he made his way up to his common room and to work on both homeworks.

Quite some time had passed, maybe an hour and a half or so, when the common room door opened. By that time, he was more than halfway done with his History homework, which was to research on the Ancient Alisteria tribe and answer a few questions about their way of life and such. Of course, he did not bother looking up to see the newcomer, since he knew very well that it was only "the Mudblood."

Hermione watched Draco from the doorway. She had already recovered, all of the poison gone from her system, and she had just arrived from dinner. She was delayed a bit, though, because Parvati and Lavender had cornered her on the way to her room.

"We want to see your room!" Parvati had said excitedly. "Padma says the common room, which is basically for only the Head Boy and Girl, is more or less as large as the Gryffindor one."

"And we decided that tonight is a good time for our bonding thing!" Lavender had added in the same tone. "We don't have any homework due tomorrow—well, actually we do. Professor Binns gave us a History homework for submission tomorrow, but it's really easy and we've already discussed it in class. If Parvati and I found it easy, you surely would too. But then we forgot what the homework was…"

"Anyway, we'll be outside your door in half an hour!" Parvati cut in. "In the meantime, you can ask people what the homework was. If you don't, we'll bring the homework with us just in case!"

Hermione had been too tired to even say that, even if she did find someone to tell her the homework, she wouldn't be able to accomplish much in hat short time, so she reluctantly agreed. Nodding at them, she had dragged her feet up to the Head rooms, forgetting that she was supposed to ask around for the homework. The first thing she saw when she opened the door had been Draco, sitting on the floor and hunched over the table. He had two large books opened before him, and he looked busy enough to not be troubled or surprised by her entrance.

She had never thought of Draco as hardworking. She had always thought that he got the grades he did only because of the Malfoy name, but the scene before her made her think the opposite. By looking at him, she learned that he studied l hard and really seriously, just like she did. His eyebrows were even knit together in concentration, and she could hear his quill furiously scratching against the parchment. Against her better judgement, she thought he looked rather attractive when he was doing schoolwork seriously.

It took a moment for her to realize what books he was holding. As he raised one book a little to the light of the fire, she saw the title printed on the spine. _Know Your MagicTribes. _The other book with him she recognized as _History of the Magic Kingdom: Early People Who Were Far More Intelligent Than the Muggle Cavemen,_ which she had used as reference more than a couple of times. She was reminded that she didn't know what the History homework was, and she made up her mind to ask him about it. But, as she neared the place where he sat, pride took over. _Why should I ask Malfoy?_ she thought. _He's an insufferable git! I just have to wait for Parvati and Lavender to tell me what it is._ Stiffening her resolve, she turned away from him and made for her door.

She quietly closed the door and placed her robe on the chair near it. She went to her bed and placed her bag on it, opening it to reveal the contents. Reaching inside, she took out the small muggle notepad where she wrote down reminders of the things she had to do. She had enchanted it so that the things she had not yet done but had to submit for the next day would glow red. Browsing through the pages, she found that everything was glowing blue, meaning she had already worked on them, except for one which glowed white, meaning she had done it and she needed to pass it the next day. This was her Arithmancy homework. She reached for her quill and wrote "History homework, due September 7' in her neat handwriting. As soon as her quill left the parchment, the words she had written down glowed red.

"Now, all I have to do is find out what the homework is about," she said loudly, looking as if she was speaking to her pad. Sighing, she put her notebook down and headed for her study table to take out what she had to ready in her bag for the next day. She took the Arithmancy homework from the small stack of parchments and brought it to the bed to proofread it.

"Krebain Sarcocuss, an American magician, came up with his own numerical system in the early 1300's, called the Bain numbers…" she read. After some time of reading her eight-foot long report and, seemingly content with everything she had written, placed it in her bag.

She lay down on the bed and stretched, staring up at the ceiling. She wanted to know what the History homework was. She cannot wait for Parvati and Lavender to come, but she didn't want to ask Draco about it, either. "History grades," she muttered, raising one hand up. "Gryffindor pride," she said next, raising her other hand and slightly lowering the other. She weighed both with her hands, consequently raising and lowering one hand after the other and muttering "History homework, Gryffindor pride, History homework Gryffindor pride, History homework…" She sighed. "History homework wins this round."

She sat up straight in bed. "'Malfoy, what's the History homework?'" she asked the imaginary person sitting before her. "No, that makes it sound like we've been good friends since forever. 'Excuse me, would you mind if I asked what our History homework is?' but that sounds like I don't even know him the slightest bit! He'd definitely refuse to answer. 'Can we set aside our differences for a moment so that you could tell me what the History homework is?' Ugh! I sound like such a user!" She threw up her hands in frustration. "Aargh! Fine! I'll just ask him straight off while sounding nice at the same time."

Standing up, she tiptoed quietly to the door and cracked it open a bit. He was still in the common room, sitting on the floor indian-style. He had removed his robes and laid them on the couch, several chocolate wrappers thrown atop them. _Malfoy eats chocolate! How cute!_ she thought to herself. _Of course, it's the thought that Malfoy eats chocolate that's cute, not Malfoy himself,_ she hastily reminded herself. Breathing deeply, she took her quill and some pieces of parchment, and strode out of the open door.

Draco had heard the door open, and had guessed that she was probably looking at him, though he didn't show that he knew. He also knew when she stepped behind him. Her vanilla scented perfume was easily discerned from the antique odor of wood in the room. "What do you want?" he asked loudly, making Hermione jump in surprise.

"Um…" she muttered, repressing the urge to giggle nervously. "You see—uh—I missed History of Arithmancy—I mean, Magic this afternoon and I—" _Great, Hermione! Just great! What happened to your confidence? And what happened to telling him straight off?_ she thought as she heard herself mutter more incoherent words. "Well, you know that I was bitten by a poisonous spider—during Transfiguration, I mean. So I was at the hospital wing the whole—"

"Get to the point already!" Draco said irritably, not once taking his eyes off his paper. He would have laughed at Hermione for stuttering in front—well, behind him, but he was too busy trying to finish his work that all else not having to do with it is an annoyance. Right now, she was a total annoyance. He would just have to laugh at it some other day.

Hermione mentally cursed herself as she began to twirl the quill in her fingers. "Right. Well, I need to know what our History homework is…" She dared to step closer to him until she was standing directly to his left. "Please, I really need it."

Draco put his quill down and leaned back on his hands, staring smugly up at her. "So, Granger finally seeks the aid of a Malfoy. I bet that cost you a lot of your valuable Gryffindor pride and dignity. Tell me, why should I tell you the homework? You're a Mudblood, after all." He reached for the stack of chocolate bars on the table and took one, taking his sweet time in opening it in front of Hermione. He bit into it and smirked coolly at her.

Hermione glared at him. Here she was, asking politely for the homework, and then he rambles on about her being a Gryffindor and a Mudblood, two things which she wished she weren't so at the moment, just for the sake of homework submission. "Fine then, Malfoy. You're right. Why should I ask for help from a jerk like you? I can try not submitting any homework for a change." She had already turned around when she heard his voice call out to her.

"Alright," he said in defeat. _I'm becoming too soft,_ he sad to himself. _I wish I could turn back to the brat I was… _"I'll tell you what the homework is. Just don't ever mention this to anybody. I'm going to have to die before I let anyone know that I voluntarily helped a Mudblood."

Hermione wanted to smack him in the face. Even though he had agreed to help, that fact did not lessen the sting in his words. But she restrained herself from using violence since he would surely refuse to help her if she did. After all, her grades were at stake. She turned back around to face him and saw that he was clearing the space on the other side of the table. Taking one large deep breath to calm herself, she moved to side opposite him and sat down on the floor. She laid her papers before her and watched as Draco took out a small piece of paper from his bag.

"Here," he said, placing the paper beside her quill. "Copy down the questions. And _don't touch it!_" he added as she moved to grasp it. "I might need to look at it later and I don't want your germs on it." He returned back to doing his work without any further glance at her.

Hermione shut her eyes for a moment. It was all she could do to stop herself from throttling him. Opening her eyes, she began to copy the questions onto her own paper. She smiled to see that most of the questions they had to answer have already been discussed in class, just like Parvati and Lavender said, and she had already read on the remaining others. Still smiling, she answered the questions correctly without the use of any reference book.

Draco watched her from time to time. He was pissed off to know that she didn't have to use any book while he had to thumb through two big books just to find one name. "Very confident, are you?" he asked after some time. "The great Granger does not even require the use of library books for one particularly difficult History homework."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "The answers to four of these questions were already discussed in class," she said haughtily. "But you wouldn't know that, would you? You probably spent more than half your time plotting on how to get my friends and I in detention. Not that any of those plans worked, anyway."

He glared at her words. "That's four questions. How about the other three? I bet you're just making up answers because you can't stand to yet again ask help from me." He smirked at her triumphantly. Surely she was doing just that. "Unless, of course, you were stealing glances at my paper to get the answers."

She threw a disgusted look at him. Oh, how he angered her! Hermione Granger would never cheat, and she was Hermione Granger. "FYI, I don't need to copy answers from you. If you must know, I know the answers to the rest of the questions because I've already read up on them. Unlike you, I research on our lessons after school to expand my knowledge."

"No wonder you have a head that size!" Draco said in mock surprise. "I suppose all that _knowledge_ went to your hair and made it all frizzy and bushy." He smirked again and took another bite of his chocolate.

"Whatever. As for that asking help from you, I can do it one more time, and I will. I need that big black book you're not yet using." Without any further word, she snatched the book from his side of the table and began turning the pages.

Draco reached across the table and snatched the book from her hands. "Did you know it's rude to take other people's property without asking for permission?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Malfoy that's a library book. Technically, it's public property. Everyone in Hogwarts is allowed to use it."

"But _I _was the one who borrowed it from that fat librarian," he pointed out. "Making me the temporary bearer _and _owner of the book. If you really want to use it, you have to borrow it nicely from me. Maybe if you asked nicely, I'd lend it to you for a second." To annoy her even more, he waved the book in front of her nose. He could almost imagine her popping a vein in anger.

Hermione took a deep breath to calm herself. She wanted to hex Draco so much, but she knew it would ruin her reputation as the Head Girl. Of course, it could also get her into trouble with Headmaster Dumbledore. Or worse, Professor McGonagall. She didn't want all that. She held out her hand, vowing to kill Draco Malfoy one of these days. "Malfoy, may I please borrow the book?"

Draco stared at her in surprise. He didn't think she was actually really going to ask for it politely. _Well, she is a Gryffindor, after all, _said a part of his brain. _Gryffindors are always like that, are they not?_ Finally, he handed her the book. "You asked help from a Slytherin twice in twenty minutes. This is going to ruin you!" he said gleefully.

"I'll tell them it's for a homework, which is the truth," Hermione said as she began to scan a page of the book with her eyes. "They know how I get when I study. Everyone knows how dedicated I am to studying. They'd understand."

"Ah, but they'll believe my story, which basically says you knelt in front of me and begged for help, admitting that, in truth, you adore me and that you're nothing but a wannabe Mudblood and that I am always right."

"Correction," she said, copying down the Alisteria written language from the book. "Your Slytherin companions would believe your ridiculous story. The rest of the school population would know that what you say is pure bullshit and that I asked nicely for the book despite the fact that I utterly despise you. All the teachers would be glad that I was willing to set aside your being Slytherin for the sake of education, which, if I may remind you, is very much important these days."

Draco was about ready to retort, but Hermione began to giggle, and he had to stop. "What's so funny?" he asked abruptly, thinking that she was laughing at something that had to do with Slytherins.

"Nothing. This sign here just looks a lot like a person sticking her butt out," she replied, pointing to one of the signs in the book.

Draco peered at the book and grinned. "True, true. It reminds me awfully of Pansy."

Hermione stared at him with a puzzled expression. "Parkinson? How come?"

He stood up as he answered her. "Have you seen the way she walks? She walks just like that, with her butt sticking out like she had two loaves of bread in her underwear."

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand to stop herself from laughing as Draco began to tell her more about how Pansy walked in the Slytherin common room. "That's just sick, Malfoy!" she said, her voice somewhat muffled by her hand. "I don't think Parkinson walks in a way as sick as that which you are telling me. Can't you hold back a bit on the disgusting parts?"

Draco smirked too and shook his head. "I can't. Pansy does it in an extremely weird and extraordinary way. I don't know any other way to say it. But, really, she does stick her but out so bad that you'd think she had a butt problem."

Hermione practically laughed herself to death. "Speaking of butts, do you know that it's scientific name is Glutaeous Maximus?"

This time, Draco laughed along with her. "Glutaeous Maximus? What kind of scientific name is that? But then it makes it even funnier: Pansy has a problem with her Glutaeous Maximus!"

Hermione shook her head. "Oh my god, Malfoy! Stop it!" After several deep breaths, she got herself to stop laughing. Shortly after, Draco's laughs also subsided. "Now, stop it, Malfoy. I have to study and finish this homework," she said sternly, though there was a faint trace of a smile on her lips.

Draco continued to grin and pointed to another one of the figures in the book. "Look at this one. Doesn't it remind you of Weasley?"

Hermione turned her eyes to what he was pointing at. "Ron? But that's a fireball."

"Exactly. With his red hair, he looks like his head is always on fire!" He waved his hands around to emphasize someone burning. "And we also have to take into account his annoying explosive temper."

"That's a mean thing to say about Ron!" she said indignantly. In truth, she wholly agreed with Draco, but Ron was still her best friend and she would always stick up for him. Of course, she also started to titter after some time.

"Stop defending your boyfriend, Granger," Draco said. "You have to admit, with Weasley's temper, I wouldn't be surprised if his hair really burns. But then, we wouldn't be able to tell, would we? It would be very easy to mistake the fire for his real hair!" He and Hermione began to laugh. "Besides, you had a good laugh too when that fake Moody turned me into a ferret. I have the right to laugh over your friends, too."

At Draco's words, Hermione began to laugh harder than she ever did in front of him. "Oh yeah! That scene was totally noteworthy and unforgettable! But I'm impressed. I can't believe you can stand to laugh about such a humiliating memory!" She leaned her forehead on the table for support as she laughed her heart out.

Surprisingly, Draco did not get mad at her words and actions. In fact, he howled with laughter and fell to the floor as he did so. "I can't believe it either!" he said between laughs. "I used to get really pissed whenever someone mentioned that thing. Now look, I was even the one who reminded you of it! I guess we really just learn to overcome certain things after some time."

As he said these words, a knock came from the door.

"Mademoiselle Granger," Freddie the statue called. "There are two girls here who claim to have an appointment with you tonight. Shall I admit them?"

Hermione, along with Draco, slowly ceased their laughter. "Yes, please," Hermione replied when she and Draco had composed themselves. She met Draco's eyes with her own, and saw that it had a twinkle to it, something that was definitely not there before. Unable to look away, she gave him a smile.

The visitors were, of course, Parvati and Lavender. They had been surprised to learn that the statue could talk, and more surprised to be reprimanded by it. Apparently, they had poked and turned its nose to see if it was the doorknob to the common room. Of course, this made Freddie grumpy and refused to let them enter even though they had insisted that Hermione was expecting them. At last, at Hermione's confirmation, they were allowed to enter the room, and this they did warily for they were half–expecting some other unexpected object to converse with them if touched. There were no other talking inanimate objects, but there was a very unexpected sight that met their eyes. Draco and Hermione were sitting together, staring at each other and faint smiles on each of their faces. Unsure of how to interrupt the two, Parvati lightly rapped the wall with her knuckles.

Hermione nearly jumped off her seat. She turned her eyes to the source of the sound just as Draco did the same, and they found Parvati and Lavender standing side by side. "Oh, hi Parvati, Lavender," Hermione said, gathering her parchments and quill, which were scattered all over the place. "I'll be right with you." As soon as she had all her stuff in her arms, she stood up and led the two girls into her room. Before she closed her door, she took one last look at Draco. He was back to doing his homework, looking just like he did before she came; serious and sober, as if nothing had happened.

Parvati jumped onto Hermione's bed in delight. "This is way better than the beds we have back at the dorm!" she squealed. "How come your bed is softer, eh? I smell a thick smoke of favoritism here… Lavender, try this one!"

Lavender did as she was told, flopping down on the bed just like Parvati did. "You're right!" she said as she lay down on her stomach. "This bed is softer and far more silky than the ones we use!"

Sighing, Hermione walked to her table to drop off her stuff then went to her bed to take her bag before either one of her giggling company squished it. "Go ahead, make yourselves at home," she said as she sat down beside her friends. "You certainly are enjoying yourselves here. Here in this lonely place with only Malfoy as the other occupant."

Parvati and Lavender exchanged sly looks. "You don't seem to mind being alone with Malfoy, though. Indeed, you look like you've been enjoying yourself, too, Hermy," she said playfully, twirling a strand of Hermione's hair with her fingers.

Hermione blushed, her eyes darting from one girl to another. "W-what on earth do you mean by that?" she said nervously, inwardly cursing herself for stuttering.

"Oh, come on, Hermione," Lavender teased, poking Hermione's reddened cheek with her pointing finger. "You know what we mean. We saw you and Draco, you know. That smile that you shared means something, obviously."

"I-I was thanking him for helping me with the History of magic homework!" the Head Girl replied hotly. "It meant nothing else!" To avoid the looks that the two were throwing her, she pretended to look for something in her bedside table.

"I must say," Parvati told Lavender. "I've never ever seen Draco Malfoy smile before. You've got to admit, it was refreshing to see something other than a smirk or a scowl or a glare on his handsome face. You must be the first person he ever smiled at, Hermione. Consider yourself lucky!"

"Exactly!" Lavender added. "Many girls would kill to be you right now! Imagine… alone in a room with Draco… and then he smiles at you. You smile back, of course, and lean closer… and closer… and closer… until your lips touch…"

Parvati and Lavender squealed together, clutching each other's hands in excitement.

"And then," Parvati said, continuing what Lavender had started. "He holds you by the shoulders and gently lays you on the floor, which is a pretty comfortable thing to do too since you were sitting on the floor and all. Anyway, so he lays you down, still kissing you from above. You hug him… and still continue to kiss him until you both run out of breath. Before you realize it, both of you are already naked on the floor and—"

Hermione shrieked loudly. "Ewww! No such thing will ever happen between me and him!" She could feel her cheeks heating up and knew that she must be blushing real hard. She ignored Parvati's comment of "You never know," and proceeded to fan herself as if it was very hot. "Since when did you find Malfoy handsome, anyway?" She wasn't really interested, but she didn't want to be the topic of their conversation.

Lavender looked at her as if she was growing arms on her head. "Hello! Since, like, forever, Hermione! You wouldn't notice his looks, though since all you care about are your books and lessons. I doubt that you even notice that both your best friends, Ron and Harry, are two of the most sought-after guys here in Hogwarts!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Lavender. "Was that an insult? And you are so wrong. Of course I notice that Harry and Ron were getting more and more handsome. What makes you think I don't?" _Of course, I do, _she thought to herself. _They are my best friends, after all, and I'm damn proud to have two handsome guys for my best friends… especially Harry. Oh, the ever so gorgeous Harry…_

"Whatever, Hermione," Parvati told her. "Anyway, back to Draco. Surely you are also attracted to him in some way? You share a common room. Tell us what he's like when in private. Of course, I meant when he's not in front of all the other Hogwarts students. What does he usually do? Any habits you witnessed?"

Hermione couldn't help but look at her friends as if they had escaped from St. Mungo's mental institute. "You really wanna know, do you?" she asked. Seeing their eager faces, she sighed. "Alright. Well, this is pretty silly since it is after all only our second night here, so I haven't seen much. Umm… he tends to sleep through the meetings we have. He… well, I don't know if this would ever interest you… he walks out of the bathroom with only a towel around his waist. He studies really—"

"Stop! Rewind!" Lavender interrupted, voicing what Parvati wanted to say but was in too much shock to speak. "He walks out of the bathroom half-naked?" she asked.

"I know!" Hermione continued. "He could have worn a robe but—"

"You are so damn lucky!"

Hermione stared at Lavender in shock. Did she just hear Lavender say she was lucky? "Wait a minute. What do you mean by that? You think seeing Malfoy with only a towel on is lucky?"

Parvati tutted. "Hermione, our school robes don't exactly show off our guy schoolmates' chests, don't they? We never see the boys barechested, but you did. What's more, it was Draco whom you saw. Draco, the hottest guy to ever cross the planet!" At this, she and Lavender squealed again.

Hermione gaped at the two giggling maniacs before her._ This is too much,_ she thought to herself. _I cannot believe they are giggling over that git!_

Although, said another part of her brain. _You have to admit. Malfoy's uncovered muscled chest is really a sight to behold. There's really no reason to be surprised at their reactions. You also thought he was pretty hot this morning._

A loud knock interrupted her thoughts and the silly laughter of her friends. Standing up, she made her way to the door. It was Malfoy, no doubt. Who else could it be? She told herself to stop blushing as she opened the door.

There he was, standing outside the door with a serious expression on his pale not-so-pointy-anymore face. Thankfully, he was fully clothed. _It would have been better if he was wearing his robes as well, of course, _she thought. Knowing that he was well covered didn't stop her from blushing, though. She only hoped it was dark enough for her red cheeks to go unnoticed.

"Will you keep it down," Draco told her miffed, shaking her out of her less-than-wholesome thoughts about the blonde. "I am trying to do my Arithmancy homework here." He looked closer at Hermione and he could swear her cheeks were a few shades too red. Behind her, the two Gryffindor girls were stifling their giggles with their hands. "Is it just the Slytherin in me or is there something seriously wrong about you Gryffindors? Seriously, as in all of you get into my nerves all the time."

"It's the curse, Malfoy," Hermione said contemptuously. "We Gryffindors and you Slytherins are cursed. We're meant to get into each other's nerves." She leaned against the wall and smirked at him in a very un-Hermione-like way. "Though I doubt that my hatred for you has much to do about the curse. I mean, even if I weren't sorted into Gryffindor, and you into Slytherin, I'm sure I'd still hate you so. It'd be a horror movie if I didn't."

Draco's dark eyebrows formed a sharp "V" on his forehead. "Watch your mouth, Granger," he said ominously. "Nobody talks to a Malfoy that way. Most especially a _Mudblood._"

She laughed at him in a mocking tone. "Well, guess what, _Malfoy._ I, Hermione Granger, 17, _Mudblood,_ just did." With a last smirk, she shut the door in his face and locked it, leaning on it after she did so. Oh, it had been hard to call herself by the name that she hated the most, but it had to be done. She had to show him that she was not in the least afraid of his Malfoy descent and she would not be giving up easily to him.

"Hermione!"

Hermione stared at both Parvati and Lavender, who were both shooting daggers at her. "What?" she asked innocently, wondering what on earth they could be furious about. "Were you disappointed that I did not let him enter and introduce you two?" she asked sarcastically.

"How can you shut the door in Draco's face?" Lavender scolded her.

I cannot believe it, Hermione thought to herself. _These two are worshipping Malfoy like he's some sort of god!_ "You know what," she said aloud to them. "I believe Malfoy's right. There really is something wrong with you guys. That's not just a simple crush; that's… that's an obsession! I mean, really, he's just Malfoy, a Slytherin. He's Lucius Malfoy's son. Tell me if he has any desirable qualities."

Lavender jumped closer. "Well, now that you mention it…"

"We like him simply because he's hot," Parvati said. "I mean, don't you just love guys with blue eyes? How about blondes? I think blondes are extremely sexy. And he's smart, too, Hermione. Even you would have to admit that." She scooted closer to Hermione, who slowly backed away suspiciously, not liking the look Parvati and Lavender had in their eyes. "Now that we've got that settled, let's see what qualities _you _like about him. There must be something about him that you find suitable to your liking.

"I'm sorry to burst you bubble, but I do not like Malfoy! Hermione protested, shaking her head profusely. "I do not!"

Lavender stared at Parvati in the eye. "Denial!" they both declared.

"I am so not in denial!"

"You so are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Ugh!" Hermione said disgustedly. "I really do not understand the two of you!" She grabbed a pillow and buried her head under it. _I do not like Malfoy! I like HARRY!_ she wanted to shout out, but she didn't want to reveal herself just yet.

Parvati bounced herself up and down on Hermione's bed. "Come on, Hermione! Don't be such a party pooper!"

Hermione buried her head under more pillows.

Draco ran a hand through his hair. _Gryffindors should die,_ he thought with intense animosity. _All of them. They have no other purpose in this world besides annoy us Slytherins._ It had been a long while since he had moved from the common room and into his room, but he could still them all the way into his room. He had told them to shut up, but nothing happened except that a door was shut into his face. Less than a minute after he had gone back into his room, they were at it once again. _Stupid Gryffindors._

Something told him that Hermione wasn't at all contributing to the noise that they were making, the kind that only girls can make, but he couldn't help but shout at her, too. He was utterly pissed. Pissed at Hermione's friends for being the noisy giggling pair that they always were. Pissed at Hermione for he knew that with her ingeniousness she could finish her homework easily while he was still doing his. Pissed at himself.

He and Hermione had been getting along surprisingly well that evening, until the others arrived and pulled him back to reality. She was a Gryffindor know-it-all Mudblood. He shouldn't be associating with her in any way, much less get friendly with her. He was supposed to laugh at her, not with her. The timely arrival of the two proved to be both good and bad.

Bad because they turned out to be an annoying tittering pair of inane Gryffindors, and good because it made him realize the "error of his ways."

"I definitely am becoming too soft," he muttered under his breath. "I'm losing it, I am seriously losing it." Looking at himself at the mirror on his closet door, he scowled at his reflection. "You're not Draco Malfoy," he told his reflection and sighed. "I have to put a distance between me and Granger."

A/N: Writer's block totally sux! Did I even have to say that?

The line which says, "I sound like such a user" may sound to others like Hermione's telling herself that she sounds like a drug user. Actually, 'user' it's a term we use here in our country. Um… how do I say this? It's like if you say "That girl is such a user," it's like saying "That girl takes advantage of other people." I do hope you get what I'm trying to say…

Well, there's one small line there that doesn't belong to me. It's the "It'd be a horror movie if I did" line. It may be small, but I don't want to be sued for plagiarizing. Anyway, I got that from a line in a Japanese anime called "Get Backers." The original line was "It'd be a horror movie if you laughed." Small… yeah, and I don't even know if that was the correct translation. I depend on subtitles, you see. Well, better safe than sorry, anyway.

Erm… I know this chapter is quite late. Sorry! Blame the summer classes! I didn't have enough time to finish typing it, and my parents don't want me to be in front of the computer too long. Shit about preparing for college and having more responsibility… sorry for the long wait again!


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Weeks passed and Draco proved true to his word during this span of time. He really did put a distance between him and Hermione. Too much distance, in fact, that even her bestest best pals had noticed. He had overheard them in one of the hallways one day talking amongst themselves just as he was about to turn a corner into the same hallway.

"Did you notice something weird about Malfoy lately?" the Weasel had asked. It was a question definitely out of the blue and Draco, upon hearing his name, immediately halted and listened to what Ron was going to say.

"You mean aside from the fact that he hasn't turned into a ferret for weeks already?" Harry put in.

"I mean," Ron explained, "He's not bothering us much this month, is he?"

"Do you seriously want to talk about that cockroach?" Harry asked. It took Draco every ounce of his will to not jump out and hex him for insulting him.

Ron shrugged. "For lack of a better subject, yes."

"Hmm," Hermione murmured. "I agree with you, Ron. The last time we had an encounter with him was around three weeks ago, and that had been our fault."

Harry chuckled. "Ron's fault, you mean," he joked. "It was Ron's idea to toss that giant slug into Malfoy's hair."

__

So it was _them!_

"Ahem, you agreed on it, though, didn't you?" Ron reminded him.

All three of them laughed as one, commenting on how the slimy dark brown slug had looked like a really big hair clip on Draco's white-blonde hair. It ticked him off, of course, and he gleefully cast the body-bind spell on them. It took Loony…er, Luna Lovegood, who happened to pass by accidentally while on one of her regular strolls around the building, to free them from it.

Now he was walking down the same corridor on his way to Potions, his last subject before lunch, when he heard footsteps a little way behind him. He turned his head around slightly to find out that it was the very person he was trying to avoid. There was no place to go. They were both headed for the same class, which had been so ever since they first arrived in that school, so there was no use trying to go the other way. He just kept his face to the front and pretended that he didn't see her coming.

Hermione had been thinking about her Ancient Runes quiz while walking, so she did not notice the path she was taking. Actually, it was more of like she wasn't paying any attention to where she was going. She knew she was going the right way to the Potions dungeons, but that was as far as it went. Some time when she was about to descend the stairs to the dungeons, she finally noticed that someone was walking ahead of her. Someone with blonde hair.

"Malfoy!" she called, remembering that she had something to tell him. She ran so that she could catch up to him. "Wait! I need to tell you something!"

Draco heard Hermione's voice calling out to him and he swore under his breath. Pretending he didn't hear, he continued down the stairs.

"Wait! Slow down, you jerk!"

He finally stopped walking, waiting for her to come. "What's all the rush, Granger? Missed me that much?" He grinned at her while she glowered at him.

"No, you doofus," she said. "I just have to tell you something important about—"

"Oh no!" Draco said, faking a surprised expression. "You're not about to profess your undying love for me, are you? I mean, it's not really a surprise that a Mudblood like you would take a liking to me, but you really aren't my type and I don't want to hurt your feelings. How do I say this lightly…"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "You are pathetic," she said monotonously. "I was going to tell you that we're having a meeting with the Prefects tomorrow night at seven o'clock in the Prefects' office. Now that I have, I'm off. Sorry if I disappointed you about the undying love thing, but you really aren't my type either. Oh, and don't forget that it's our turn to patrol tonight." Turning her back to him, she walked down the hall to the Potions classroom, ignoring his next words. All she understood was "Whatever."

Draco scrunched up his face. "You really aren't my type either," he said shrilly in an attempt to mimic Hermione. "Know-it-all," he huffed. Turning his expression back to normal, which was basically cold and expressionless, he followed in the direction she had gone to and entered the Potions classroom.

0000000000

Draco ran a hand through his damp hair and made his way to Prefects' office. He had just come from Quidditch training with his team, which he unwillingly cut short because of the meeting. It was quite a big sacrifice to make since the first match of the year was only a week and a day away. Honestly, who'd want to go to a meeting when they could spend their time playing Quidditch?

He reached the corridor of the office and saw that the Prefects were all standing outside the doors. "What's the hold-up?" he asked, annoyed that they haven't entered yet. _Did they really have to wait for me to do this? I do not have to do everything for them. And where on earth is the fucking Mudblood?_

Padma was the first to answer. "As you can see, we're still outside," se said as-a-matter-of-factly.

"That I can," Draco replied sarcastically as he neared them. He hated Padma. She was pretty, yes. That much was obvious. But she was freaking cheeky, one factor that he absolutely hated. "How come you haven't gone yet inside was what I meant. You'd think Ravenclaws would know what my question meant."

"Well," Pansy simpered, touching Draco lightly by the arm. "The password we were using until last week doesn't work anymore. Did you change it?" The look on Draco's face told them that it was changed. "Next time, try informing us about the password change. We arrive before you do, and then Granger's not here; probably she's goofing off with her idiot Gryffindor pals."

Ginny glared at Pansy. "Hermione doesn't have the habit of goofing off and missing an important meeting like this, Parkinson," she said, rising to the defense of her friend. "There must be a valid reason for her tardiness today."

Pansy narrowed her eyes in disgust, still while attempting to caress Draco's arm with her fingers. Draco was busy pulling away from her. "Shut up, redhead. Just because your Mudblood friend portrays the image of a saint doesn't mean she _is _one. For all we know, she could be off banging with your _precious_ brother."

Ginny looked ready to kill. "If you value your face, try not insulting Gryffindors in the presence of another Gryffindor," she threatened.

"Shut up, both of you," Draco interrupted before the Weasley could do anything rash. Somehow, he was disquieted by what Pansy had said about Hermione and Ron. He pried Pansy's fingers off his arm with a little difficulty. "And will you stop clutching me, Pansy," he said through gritted teeth. Finally succeeding in freeing himself, he strode to the painting that concealed the door to the Prefects' office. "Western Isles," he said loudly for the whole assembly to hear, and the painting swung open to reveal a large door, which he easily pushed open. "Come on. We've wasted enough time already."

One by one, the Prefects admitted themselves into the room. When the last of the Prefects was already inside, Draco followed and closed the door behind him. He made a fire appear in the fireplace with his wand, then leaned himself on the wall as the Prefects settled themselves on the couches.

"Excuse me," Justin Finch-Fletchley said as soon as everyone was settle in their seats. "Can we please get this over with quickly? I have an appointment with… well, I just have an important appointment." He looked at Draco square in the eye, though he really wanted to look away.

"Is it really important?" Draco asked suspiciously. "If you're only trying to skip out on this boring meeting, you'd better stop the attempt. If it is an appointment with a Professor or if it was a very important family thing, you may go now."

Before Justin could come up with a good answer to say, fifth year Hufflepuff Prefect, Millie Brackhart, already gave an answer. "He's meeting up with upperclass-man Ernie Macmillian," she said quietly. She couldn't keep quiet because she knew something others didn't, and though she wasn't as much of a gossip as the Patil twins were, she was still one. Nothing excites a gossip more than rumors and scandals and things better kept secret. "I saw them earlier today in one of the corridors, but they were getting cozy so the only thing I heard was that they were having a date tonight."

Everyone in the room turned their heads to Millie, including a blushing Justin. "W-what the h-hell are you t-talking about?" he stuttered, and everyone looked into his guilty face.

Draco stared amusedly at the two Hufflepuffs. _I never knew Finch-Fletchley was bi… or possibly even homo, _he thought. Indeed, Justin never showed any outward signs that he was interested in males, so it surely came as a shock to all of them. As for Millie, he had always thought she was a funny character. She would say things she wasn't supposed to say, then make it look like she wasn't the least bothered by what she had revealed and sometimes look like she thought everyone else won't bother either. Tonight was just the same.

"Finch-Fletchley," he said. "I see it is an important appointment, but then I didn't think you'd be dating Macmillian. You just wait. It'd be all over the school before breakfast even starts." He smirked at Justin and was pleased to see that his eyes were wide-open and his face was furiously red. "Oh," he added. "No, you cannot skip the meeting, by the way."

He walked to what they call the "Cork Wall." The wall itself was the Prefects' bulletin board, the whole length of it a large corkboard. He removed one piece of parchment pinned to the wall and brought it back to the waiting group of Prefects.

"Now," he said. "The meeting will commence." As soon as the words came out of his mouth, the office door swung open and in came Hermione.

"Sorry I'm late," she apologized. She looked like she had been running, he breathing ragged and strands of her chocolate brown hair plastered to her slightly sweaty face. She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, apologizing one more time. "What did I miss?" she asked as she stood to stand beside Draco.

"We just finished the meeting," he said disapprovingly as she put her bag down on the floor. Why did she look so disheveled? Surely Pansy's joke wasn't true, was it? He became even more uneasy as he saw that she was starting to remove her black Hogwarts robes. She was wearing only the white long-sleeved blouse and the Hogwarts gray skirt under it, her Gryffindor tie absent for once. _So unkempt… she couldn't have been really banging with Weasley, right? _Amidst his inquietude, he managed to appreciate what she was wearing. He had always found plain blouses of all kinds and cuts sexy on women, and seeing Hermione in her white school blouse without the annoying red and gold tie was undeniably delightful. He muttered a, "Quit stripping in front of us, Granger," to her.

Hermione turned to look at him oddly. "Who's stripping?" she asked with a frown. "It's just a robe. Don't you feel hot in your own robes?" She continued to fold her robes neatly and placed it on top of her bag.

"Of course, I feel hot," Draco replied. Well, he wanted to, but nothing came out of his mouth. _Yes, I feel hot, dammit! Who wouldn't with all the clothes you're taking off? And stop talking like that, for Merlin's sake! You fucking sound like a fucking stripper!_ She had just tied up her hair in a pony, exposing her long slender neck, another thing which he was a sucker for. Damn the Vampire blood in him…

"That's better," Hermione muttered, patting her ponytail. She turned to Draco. "And you didn't really expect me to believe that the meeting is finished, do you?

Draco swallowed hard, trying to push away the naughty thoughts he was having about the girl in front of him. "Whatever," he retorted pitifully, lifting the paper to his eyes to avoid seeing Hermione in her sexy white blouse and her neck that was enough to tempt a Vampire into coming out in the open during daylight. "Let's see, where was I? Oh, right… you all know what this paper does, don't you?" he asked, showing the paper around to everyone. "It magically lists down all punishments you people have been giving out." He scanned the paper with her eyes. Beside him, he could feel Hermione doing the exact same thing.

"Parkinson," Hermione said in a troubled tone. "You gave detention to Colin Creevey for accidentally stepping on your pink hair clip?" She turned an eye on the Slytherin girl, who shrugged like she didn't care and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Was that his name?" Pansy asked, and Draco had to smirk. "He smashed it. It was my favorite _Montferrat _hair clip. We all know how expensive _Monferrat_ merchandise can get. That clip alone cost me 51 galleons! But then you wouldn't know that, would you? Being a nothing more than a Muggle, I mean." She looked away grumpily.

Hermione ignored Pansy's comment about Muggles. She wouldn't rise to the bait. She knew that was Pansy's aim… to get her worked up. _51 galleons… that's like around 15-20 pounds. Who'd be stupid enough to buy something that expensive? _she mused, instead. If she were Pansy, she'd get furious at Colin, too. "But you gave him a week's worth of detention for that," she said anyway. "That's a little too much. Besides, he doesn't even deserve any detention. You can't give out detentions for personal and selfish reasons." She turned to face Ginny, who was in the same year as Colin. "Gin, you tell Colin that the detention Parkinson gave him is cancelled."

"You cannot do that!" Pansy shrieked indignantly. "He wrecked my 51 galleon pink _Monferrat_ hair clip! I would have taken points from your House, but _Prefects are not allowed to do that._ What did you want me to do? Would you rather I asked Crabbe or Goyle to beat him up?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, though she actually thought, _that could be a good option._ _Goodness knows Colin is one of the most annoying people in school_. "Whatever, Parkinson," she said aloud. "Maybe next time you'd think before you leave your _expensive_ valuables lying around the floor. The detention is off. If you've got any problems with that, I'll take a few points from your own House." She turned back to Draco, who held the paper. She tapped her wand a few times on Colin's name and it, along with the word 'detention' written beside it, disappeared.

Pansy sat down on her seat, glaring at Hermione and muttering curses under her breath, in which the words "Mudblood" and "Fucking Bitch" were discernable.

Draco ignored Pansy's tantrum and looked at the paper again, his eyes lighting up maliciously. "What about you, Thomas," he said, grinning triumphantly at the Gryffindor. "You gave Crabbe detention for being fat and overweight? I think that is just utterly unreasonable." He grinned even larger when he saw Hermione almost crack her neck as she craned it quickly to better see if Draco was kidding or not.

Dean looked up from his hand. He knew that he was going to be called on, but he had hoped that Hermione would be the first to see the paper and hence go easy on him. "But he really is overweight," he said defiantly, facing a smug Draco and a displeased Hermione. "I was late for class the other day because he couldn't fit through the bathroom door and I couldn't get out. This school should only accept students who are of high intelligence and not some pea-brained porky fellow who cannot even spell his own name."

"Well, that certainly rules you out, Thomas," Draco replied haughtily. "You're not really known to have a large mental capacity, are you? With intelligence like yours, I find it hard to believe that Hogwarts even actually considered sending you a letter. Even Flobberworms have more brains. Now," he tapped the paper with his wand in much the same way that Hermione did. "Crabbe's detention is off, as well. And, let's see, five points from Gryffindor for abusing your power as a Prefect."

Hermione, who had remained quiet through Draco's speech, snapped her head to his direction. "Hey, now, wait a second there," she said angrily. "I didn't take any points from your House for Parkinson's unnecessary distribution of punishments. The worst thing I did was cancel the detention. There's no reason for you to go and take points from Gryffindor."

Draco smirked at her. "That was to teach Thomas a lesson," he replied simply. "If he is not disciplined well, he would continue to do the same thing next time." He shrugged his shoulders at Hermione, looking like he did not care the least bit about what he had done.

"What you did was unreasonable as well!" she pointed out. "Isn't it enough to call it off? I mean, Parkinson gave Colin a week's detention for _accidentally _stepping on her hair clip which, if I might remind you, shouldn't have been lying on the floor in the first place. I did not take five points from Slytherin, did I?"

"You're just too goody-goody, Granger. Normal people won't let it off easy."

Hermione rolled her eyes, throwing him a look of disgust. "So I suppose you're normal, now, are you?"

"Indeed."

"Let me take points from your House, then."

Draco tutted. "Do you seriously want to do that, Granger? Wouldn't that be for revenge? I think that's under the category of 'personal' reasons."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but she didn't have anything to say. She had to admit, she walked into that one. She shook her head, trying to ignore the way he smirked. She was starting to find the smirk irritating and irresistible at the same time… and it was difficult to get mad at someone when you're busy admiring his good looks. Pushing the 'evil' thoughts away, she snatched the paper from his hands and looked at it.

"Don't you have manners, Mudblood?" Draco said angrily. "Mommy Muggle didn't teach you any?" But he let Hermione handle the paper, anyway. Sitting himself on the floor by the fire, just like he did the other meeting, he allowed her control.

Hermione let him go. After all, there was no point in arguing with an irresponsible dickwad like him. She mentally slapped herself for using the disgusting term. She faced the Prefects and clasped her hands behind her back. "Okay, that's it for the problems in detention-giving," she said in a business-like tone. "I am disappointed that two of you, one from my House and one from his—" she nodded at Draco who was busy shining his Head Boy badge. "Have given detentions to fellow students who did not merit a detention. We are not supposed to do that… ever. The next time anyone of you do something like this, you will be reported to your Head of House. And do not try editing what is on this paper. It answers only to my and Malfoy's wand. If any other wand is used on it, we will immediately be alerted as to who tried changing what is on it."

The Prefects looked at one another. It hadn't occurred to them that they could try to alter what is written on the paper, and it made Hermione glow with something somewhat like pride that 'their Prefects' did not think of misbehaving even more by changing the paper. On the Prefects' part, learning that a spell was on paper only showed them just how serious Hermione was about doing duties well.

"Moving on," Hermione said, calling back the attention of the Prefects and of Draco. "Tomorrow is a Hogsmeade day, as you all must know. All ten of us will be the last ones to head there, as we have the duty to make sure all who are not allowed to go will not be able to go. Malfoy and I will be stationed at the Entrance Hall. The rest of you will station yourselves elsewhere."

Draco stood up from the floor, dusting off his pants with one hand. "Right," he said idly. "And then we'll be the last to stay there until all the Hogwarts students have gone back safely to school. Of course, the Head Boy, me, has to remain and make sure all the Prefects get back to school, since you are my responsibility."

"I have to stay behind, too," Hermione added. "To make sure that _The _Head Boy goes back to school and doesn't go off somewhere on his own after school hours." She was not about to let anyone take her out of the picture_, _and that included jerks and Malfoys.

Draco waved his hand at her. "You do that. And while you're at it, stay there forever and lessen the troubles in my life, then there'd be one less person to annoy me." He took the paper from Hermione and pinned it again to the cork wall. "That should do it, people. This meeting is adjourned. Oh, and Finch-Fletchley," he added maliciously. "Why don't you hurry along. Macmillian must already be waiting for you."

Justin glared at Draco, some Prefects giggled and whispered amongst themselves, and Hermione stared from Justin's red face to Draco's smirking one. The Prefects eventually exited the office, leaving Hermione alone with Draco.

"What was that about Justin and Ernie?" she asked as soon as all the Prefects have gone. She stooped to pick up her bag and robe from the floor.

"Oh, you mean you didn't know?" Draco said innocently. "Finch-Fletchley and Macmillian are dating." He grinned at Hermione's stupefied expression, savoring the thought that there was something he knew that she didn't. "Really, I couldn't believe it either when I first heard it, but it's true. Close your mouth Granger."

Hermione snapped her jaw shut. Se couldn't tell if he was being serious or not. He had the look that said he knew something, but she couldn't help distrusting him _He's Malfoy, after all; always out to pull our legs when given the chance._ "Come on," she said after a moment. "That's just ludicrous. Justin dated Mandy Brocklehurst back in fifth year. Now you want me to believe what you're saying, that he's gay?"

Draco shrugged and made for the door. "Obviously, that was all for show, in case you haven't thought of that yet. I'm not telling you to believe me," he said as he opened the door, Hermione walking some distance behind him. "But. I tell you, the whole school will know by breakfast, now that all the Prefects know it. Patil and Pansy would definitely spread the good news faster than any bacteria can."

Hermione ran a little to catch up to him, so that they were walking side-by-side. "And are you sure about this? Sure? I mean, how on earth did you know about this?"

Draco looked at her with an exasperated look. "Two words: Millie Brackhart. I hope that's enough to shut you up and keep you that way."

It was. Hermione knew what Millie was like, and she knew that most of what Millie said was true, if not some version of the truth. She was known for being annoyingly frank and tactless, so not many people like being around her. You wouldn't want that, too, if you don't want your secrets to be spilled out. Having no close friends, she became one of the people who spent time with textbooks, otherwise known as the nerds, making her one of the top students of the fifth years.

"She saw Finch-Fletchley and Macmillian in some corridor," he continued. "Brackhart being who she was, she told us what she saw the moment Finch-Fletchley said he was having an important appointment tonight."

Hermione nodded in understanding. "I see," she said. She couldn't think of anything sensible to say, for the news was such a shock to her. Silently, she walked alongside Draco as they both headed for their rooms. She watched as he said the password to Frederick. Somehow, his voice, which used to be very annoying and somewhat always lazy-like, had acquired a deep tenor and slightly soothing quality. Traces of the eleven-year-old Draco's drawl were still distinguishable, but for the most part he had a very masculine and manly voice.

As she followed him into the room, she couldn't help but compare him to Harry, which she noticed she had been doing quite often lately. While Draco had a now more manly voice, Harry still had the voice of a pubescent boy. He still sounded like he did in fourth year, when his voice was still immature, cracking often every once in a while, as if he would still be going through much changes. But then Harry always seemed to mature late, and she guessed that it's because his childhood wasn't exactly what one could call fun, so he's making up for his "lost years." He had remained skinny and scrawny up until fifth year, when he had grown a good three inches. Of course, though both him and Ron still acted like puerile adolescents, Ron was about two and a half inches taller and a good deal more buffed. And though Draco had also grown more muscles than Harry ever had the past few years, he still was just slightly smaller and leaner than Ron.

Stepping into the common room, Hermione mentally slapped herself. What was she doing? She was comparing her friends to Draco! _That can't be good, can it? _she reflected. She frowned at herself and said, _That's it, no more thinking about Malfoy from now on._

However, when she was about to close the door to her room, she found herself muttering a "Goodnight, Malfoy," in his direction. She saw him pause, then walk into his room like he had heard nothing. Frowning, she closed her own door and walked to her bed to change and get some sleep.

0000000000

Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table lunchtime that Sunday afternoon, watching Harry and Ron converse about Quidditch. The first game of the season was between Gryffindor and Slytherin, as Ron, Gryffindor team Captain, had told her that morning. Being both in the team, he and Harry spent a lot of their time mapping out strategies for the match against their rival house.

"Malfoy's Captain this year, "Ron said as both Harry and Hermione listened; Harry for pure interest and curiosity, and Hermione for sheer boredom. "With him as Captain, Slytherin team would surely goof up."

Harry shook his head sternly. "Don't underestimate Malfoy, Ron," he said seriously. "He was their sub-captain for the past three years, and he was one of their strategists last year. You saw how they performed during last year's final match against them. We almost got beat at that time. If I hadn't seen the Snitch hiding in the Gryffindor bleachers when I did, Slytherin would have garnered so much points that not even the additional 150 points for catching the Snitch would allow us to outscore them."

"Pshaw," Ron said carelessly, dismissing the thought with a wave of his hand. "Come on, Harry. You don't expect Malfoy's team to put up much of a fight, do you? We all know that their main strategist last year was Johnson Townshend, and he's a real genius. Malfoy's just putting up that show of being strategist and sub-captain for the attention!"

Harry fixed another stern gaze on his best friend. "I've played against him for six years, Ron. I'd know."

Ron nodded resignedly. "Alright, alright, I bloody well get it. Don't underestimate Captain Malfoy." He shook his head indifferently. "Really, Harry, it's Malfoy. With you on the team, we'd surely win every match this year." It had been hard to say that bit about Harry being the team's savior._ But then I couldn't bloody well admit that I'm bloody jealous of his fame, can I? _There had been many instances the past years where his jealously was more than a little obvious, but pride always kept him from stating the obvious.

"Then that must mean I wasn't on the team the past six years," Harry told him. "If I am what you say I am, then we should have won every single match against every single house since first year. But that didn't happen at all, did it? Because during first year I was injured and wasn't able to come to the last match for the Quidditch cup. I am pretty sure that I lost to Hufflepuff during third year. Fourth year we never had Quidditch, fifth year I was banned form the team, and sixth year I was once again injured during our supposed match against Ravenclaw. Second year is the only year I got to complete every match and win them all. Now do you still want to tell me that our win is guaranteed?" He looked questioningly at Ron.

Ron shook his head. "I'm sorry, mate. I wasn't thinking," he said. "You're right, I shouldn't be labelling you like that." Nevertheless, Harry's words had made him feel better._ Well, that makes him less perfect and more human, right?_

"Attention, students!" said Dumbledore in a very loud voice, stopping Hermione from opening her mouth to say something. "Third years and up, it is time to make your way to Hogsmeade. May I please ask the Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl to check every student leaving the premises and make sure only those who have permits could come."

Hearing Dumbledore's words, Hermione stood up from her seat. "That's my call," she said with slight resignation in her tone. "So, I'll meet you two at Honeydukes later." Nodding at them, she walked away to the Entrance Hall along with the third year students, calling out, "Third years first! Let's do this in an organized manner, everyone! No dear, you're a fifth year. Wait till it's your year's turn to go."

Harry shook his head, smiling amusedly. "I hear lots of students from the lower levels are easily intimidated by Hermione," he told Ron. "Sit down, Neville," he added as he saw Neville rise from his seat to go to the Entrance Hall. "It's not our turn yet."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked Harry as soon as Neville was already sitting down. "Hermione is perfectly nice to everyone. How can she intimidate any midgets?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Let's see, she's the smartest girl in the whole school, she's Head Girl, and she's part of a small group of three seventh year Gryffindors who are dubbed many different names such as _The Hogwarts Dream Team, The Golden Trio, The Wonder Troublemakers, _and—excuse the name—_Harry Potter and Company…_ you know, all those crappy stuff they call us."

Ron agreed, munching on his ninth piece of toast. "I hate all those names they call us. I mean, whoever would think of such a thing as _The Hogwarts Dream Team_, anyway? I can understand the one about us being troublemakers, but, really—_Dream Team_?"

"I know what you mean. I think it all started during second year, when Lockhart kept insisting that I wanted publicity and fame and all that shit."

"That Lockhart's naturally mental. I mean, you're more famous than him without even trying."

Harry dismissed Ron's comment with a roll of his green eyes. "Shut up, Ron. Don't remind me. You know that I don't want the fame." He noticed that Neville and Seamus were already rising from the table now only occupied by a few seventh years and the first- and second-years that weren't allowed to come. "I think it's our turn already to go," he said, standing from his seat and waiting for Ron to stand as well.

"Right," the redhead replied, stepping away from the table. "Let's go." He and Harry walked amidst all the other seventh years form the other Houses to the Entrance Hall, where they saw Hermione standing by the Entrance Doors opposite of Draco.

"Form one line, seventh years," the two boys heard Draco say. "Come on, we've been doing this for four years already. you should know the procedures by now."

"Mr. Head Git is acting up again," Ron whispered into Harry's ear.

Harry nodded in agreement. "I really don't know why he got the position of Head Boy. As far as I'm concerned, you and Hermione make a far better team. And you two get along great, too. Of course, there're always your petty quarrels, but at least you're not her worst enemy, which he is."

Ron's ears turned slightly pink. "Oh, come on, Harry. You know the whole school had expected you to get the position," he said.

"I wasn't even made a Prefect," Harry replied with a little bitterness. "In your case, maybe they don't usually choose Heads that come from the same House."

"Oh," Ron interrupted. "But your mom and dad were from the same House, weren't they. And from what I know, your dad didn't become a Prefect in all his years in Hogwarts either."

Harry shrugged. "Exactly. It just means I really am not meant for the job. If I were. Then maybe what had happened to my dad would have happened to me, too."

Ron mentally hit himself on the forehead. He had walked into that one.

They had been walking as they talked, and they suddenly found themselves standing beside Hermione.

"Well, don't you two look distracted this afternoon," she said gaily, peering into their faces as if she would find out what's making them so serious by doing so. "Are you two alright? Let me guess, is it a guy thing? I mean, you can share it with me. I'm not a girl remember?"

Harry looked up from his seat and smiled at her as he recalled what had happened at the Yule Ball during fourth year. Beside him, he felt Ron doing the same. "It's nothing," he said dismissively, simultaneously looking in Draco's direction. He glared at the blonde Head Boy, much to the Head Girl's puzzlement.

"Okaaay," she said slowly, looking at Ron questioningly. She dropped the subject when she said him shrug at her, but she also saw him glare at Draco like Harry had done. "Alright. If you don't want me to know, then just move on and leave. You're blocking the others. I'll meet you at Honeydukes." She waved them off and they left, waving back at her. After they had gone, she herself looked at Draco, trying to figure out what he could have done this time to deserve their death glares.

"God, Granger," Draco drawled. "I do not mind being admired, but that's the whole Golden Trio in five minutes. You three really do have a thing for me, don't you?" he kept his eyes on their Gryffindor and Ravenclaw batchmates who were stepping out of the doors the whole time, but he had felt it when Harry, Ron and Hermione each stared at him one after the other.

Hermione scowled as she ushered the Ravenclaws into hurrying. "Shut up, Mr. Head Ferret," she said to him. "For once can you please just keep your big mouth shut."

Draco scowled, too, as the last of the seventh years went through the doors. "I detest you," he said haughtily, grey eyes narrowed at her.

"You do not know how pleased I am to hear that, Malfoy," she replied in the same tone. She went out of the door and pulled shut the left half of it with her, watching as he did the same with the other half.

"Actually, I do," he replied as they walked together down the stairs to the carriage waiting below. The Prefects had gone into it's expanded interior, so they were the only ones being waited for. "I know you couldn't bear to hear me say that I hate you, when you're doing all you can to show your love for me."

Hermione threw him a look of disgust. "As if, Malfoy," she said just as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

"You know what, you're always in denial everytime we talk of this," he said as he held the door open for her, as was his habit of opening the carriage door for all females. "Go on, Granger," as he noted her surprised expression and realized what he had just done. "I can't hold open the door like this for you forever."

Hearing his words, she stepped up into the carriage and sat to Ginny's left. Shortly after, Draco followed inside and sat to Hermione's left, which was the only vacant seat left, closing the door with him as soon as he was seated.

The carriage jerked and they were riding to Hogsmeade in no time.

"Move your ass, Granger," he whispered to her. "I need a space to sit, too, you know."

Hermione glared at him hatefully and moved away from him. "Well, if you want to be able to sit somewhere, try not to keep following me wherever I go."

"In case you didn't notice, Granger, we're heading in the same place."

She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean." With another glare in his direction, she turned to face Ginny, with whom she chatted the whole way to Hogsmeade. "So, Gin, how're your other brothers? Ron told me that one of them is going to marry soon, but he refused to tell me who it was and to whom he was going to get married, saying it was supposed to be a surprise until your mom said that he can tell it."

Ginny let out a laugh. "Oh, then don't tell him I told you, but Fred's going to marry Angelina Johnson," she said cheerfully. "You know, that Quidditch player who was in the same year as the twins and the one who replaced Wood as Captain the year they dropped out of school. Really, it was actually expected, you know."

Hermione nodded in approval, raising her voice a little so that Ginny would hear her amidst the conversations of the other occupants of the carriage. "I remember her. Harry had complained about her too many times that year when she became the Captain. He kept saying she was almost as bad as Wood."

"She is," Ginny replied. "I was substitute seeker that year, remember? Anyway, their marriage is scheduled sometime in January or early February. You and Harry are invited, by the way."

Hermione smiled at the news. "Great! I can't wait to see Fred married. Can I ask you something? Has Fred been going out with Angelina long?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't really know when they started, but I heard that they were already together at the time we held a Yule Ball here."

"Oh," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, there were many rumors that even before the Yule Ball the two of them were already starting to get really close and personal. And there were also those times after the Ball when George would just come up to us and ask us if we have seen either Fred or Angelina or both."

"Speaking of George, did you know that he threw a tantrum when he learned that Fred was planning to get married?" Ginny said with a really big grin on her face. "I swear, he was so hilarious! He locked himself in his room, which was also Fred's too, so he had to sleep with Ron for about two weeks. He didn't even come to work during that time. We would have thought he was dead if he didn't always call for food!"

Hermione stifled a laugh. "George did that? I wish I'd seen it. George just loves his twin so much."

"What's more funny," Ginny added. "Is that every night, during that two weeks that he locked himself away from us, he always sent a howler into Ron's room, saying that Fred was a traitor and that he never wanted to be associated with someone who would probably betray him once more ever again! Mum didn't know if she should laugh because of George silliness or cry because of all the expenses that sending a howler brought her!"

Hermione laughed, covering her mouth so that she wouldn't be a nuisance to the other people in the carriage. "Oh my gosh, you should have taken a picture for me!"

"Dad did take a picture. He even took a vido or whatever you call it."

"It's called a video," Hermione told her. "I've got to borrow the tape sometime."

"Sure," Ginny nodded. "Just remind me to bring it to school after Christmas."

The carriage came to a stop, and the door was opened by Draco, showing the others that they were already in Hogsmeade. One by one they all stepped down and separated ways, some going this way and some going that.

After waving a goodbye to Ginny, Hermione walked down the lane that led to Honeydukes sweets shop. She found the shop crowded with Hogwarts students, as it usually was year after year. Somehow she managed to squeeze herself inside, finding Ron and Harry standing by the big jar of chocolate frogs beside the counter. She walked over to them and tapped them both by the shoulders. "Hey," she said.

Harry smiled at her in greeting and said "Hello," while Ron only nodded, his eyes remaining transfixed on the frogs.

"What's up with Ron?" she asked Harry.

"He's debating whether to buy the frogs or the new assorted fruit belts," Harry replied. "I think he has this whole saving money thing going on. I told him I'd treat him to either one while he pays for the other one, but he didn't want to owe me anything." He shrugged at Hermione, grinning at Ron.

"Damn right," Ron said, pointing his finger to the jars and mouthing something that looked suspiciously like 'ini-mini-miny-mo.' "I still owe you for the omnioculars back in fourth year, and I don't want my debt to increase anymore." Finally coming up with a decision, he reached a hand into the jar of frogs and took ten.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I told you, Ron," he said exasperatedly. "Screw the omnioculars! You're like my brother, and brothers share what they have."

Hermione watched them from the background, smiling at the sight. Indeed, Ron and Harry were like brothers in many ways. It was hardly possible to separate them, except when they had to go pee or when they had their petty quarrels. Harry was also very much welcome in Ron's family, and Hermione didn't doubt that, given enough money, Arthur and Molly Weasley would adopt Harry into the family.

After some time, Ron finally consented to being treated to the fruit belts. "I swear, Harry, I'll pay you back one day," he said determinedly. "And I'll pay for the omnioculars as well."

Harry only smiled at him, but Hermione knew that he wouldn't accept the money anyway if Ron would pay. It wasn't just sympathy for Ron's poor family, but because he really loved Ron as a brother, and he would always want to be on equal ground with him.

After falling into the long line in front of the counter, Ron, Harry and Hermione finally got to pay for the sweets they chose, and together they walked out of the shop, Hermione walking between Harry and Ron.

0000000000

Hermione sat up from the couch, surprising everyone else in the room. "Oh shoot!" she exclaimed. "It's past nine o'clock already! How come none of you told me?" She looked at Harry, Ron and Ginny. She had spent her afternoon in the Gryffindor common room after they had arrived from Hogsmeade and had forgotten to get back to her own common room before curfew.

Ron hiccuped, having drunk more than ten butterbeers in succession. "You didn't ask, did you, Herm-own-ninny," he said, his voice slurry and his head almost falling off his neck.

Ginny held up her brother's head by the chin. "Oh, Ron, they're just butterbeers," she said in the tone of a mother teaching something to her child. "Really, it's not like you haven't drunk any before."

Hermione waved a hand at Ginny. "He drank fourteen butterbeers on an empty stomach, Gin," she explained. "Unless you count Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans. I told him to go down for dinner, but he said he needed to finish his new Divination Chart."

"And a good job he did on it, too," Harry interjected, holding up Ron's chart, which was absolutely spotless, not a single drop of ink staining it. "I told him we can do it together after dinner, but he still wouldn't come. What's worse, he couldn't think of anything to write on it even after dinner, and then you came along and began talking about different things and he won't lay a finger on his ink or paper anymore."

"Are you saying it's my fault that he hasn't yet done his homework?" she joked.

Harry shrugged, playing along with her. "Well, yes, actually," he replied in a serious tone. "If you hadn't come and mentioned Victor Krum, he would have kept his mouth shut and we would have done some progress on both our Divination homeworks."

Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes, letting her arms fall to her side. "Whatever, Harry," she said with a grin. "I've been telling you for years to drop that subject, but you wouldn't listen. Now look what you have to do every year. It's the same thing over and over again. Now, may I borrow your cloak again? It simply wouldn't do for the Head Girl to be caught in the halls after curfew."

Harry put down the bottle of butterbeer which was in hand and stood up. "You owe me a homework for this," he joked, making his way to the boys' dormitories. After a while, he stepped out again, this time with something silvery in his hand.

"Thanks," Hermione smiled, taking the Invisibility cloak from him. "I'll help you with your homework anyway even if you didn't let me borrow this."

"I know."

She picked up the brown paper bag lying by her feet, the sweets she bought from Honeydukes. Donning on the cloak, she said goodbye to Harry, Ginny and a giddy Ron, then opened the portrait door of the Gryffindor Tower.

She tiptoed quietly down the stairs and across the halls, careful to hold her paper bag in such a way that it would not make any rustling sound while she walked. Filch could be about, and the last thing she wanted was to get caught in Harry's cloak. That would mean Harry would be involved, and the cloak would be confiscated. Finally reaching Frederick's corridor, she hurried to the statue. "Monsieur Freddie," she whispered to wake the sleeping statue. "Crystal Drops."

Freddie opened his eyes and looked around. "Mademoiselle Granger, is that you?" he asked suspiciously as he could see no one.

Reluctantly, Hermione pulled off part of the cloak to expose her upper body. "Yes, it's me," she confirmed. "Please hurry. Mr. Filch might come along."

Finally sure that it was Hermione, Freddie immediately jumped out of the way and opened the door for her. "Oui, Mademoiselle. Please come in immedietely."

Hermione went in and pulled off the cloak entirely, whispering a thank you to Freddie before closing the door. She walked into the common room, about to head or her bedroom, when she saw that Draco was on the floor his Quidditch broom in hand. Letting go of the doorknob, she walked to him and sat on the couch, observing what he was doing.

He was shining his broomstick handle, a Broom Servicing Kit like Harry's lying open in front of him, although it was obvious that, by the additional broom care products in it, his kit was more expensive than the one she got for Harry. He continued to shine and trim the handle and bristles of his broom, but he was getting distracted by Hermione as she went on staring at him.

"Have you got no other better thing to do besides stare at me?" he snapped, causing her to drop the bag in her hand. "I mean, it's really distracting."

Hermione stooped down to pick her bag. "I'm sorry," she apologized, not knowing why she was apologizing when she didn't do anything. "I just wanted to see how that kit is actually used." She sat up straight again and resumed looking at what Draco was doing.

"What for?" he asked irritably. "You don't like Quidditch, anyway."

She refused to answer and remained still, not uttering a word. "You're going against Gryffindor, aren't you?" she asked after some silence. "Ron and Harry are practicing real hard for the match against you."

Draco puffed. "Funny, our team seems to be the only one practicing day after day," he said sardonically. "I've only seen them in the pitch one time this week. Being Captain, shouldn't Weasley take his team to practice more often? Or is he just taking me too lightly? Tell him tomorrow that he had better start training his team if he wants to beat us in the match."

Hermione scowled. "For your information, our Quidditch team is practicing hard, too, though I admit that Ron _is_ underestimating you a bit." She looked at Draco closely. There was something odd about him that moment. "You look almost like you're happy for some reason," she commented.

He looked astonished at her. "Oh, is it that obvious?" he asked, and she wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or not. He grinned at her. "Fine, I'll tell you. My Mum just mailed me and said that one of my many pets gave birth. Not that you care, anyway."

Hermione looked somewhat interested. "Oh really?" she said, leaning closer to hear better. "And what's this pet of yours?" she asked. She was really interested at what kind of animals he kept at home as pets. She could hardly imagine him with a hamster or a rabbit. "It's not that owl of yours, is it? I mean, I've heard you calling it Vladimir, and that can't be a female name, can it?"

Draco rolled his eyes at her. "Don't be stupid, Granger," he said exasperatedly. "Of course it isn't a female name. My other pet is also a bird, though. Her name's Zimri, and she's a Snidget[1]. Not that you care, anyway." In truth, he didn't mind if she asked. In fact, he was happy to show off his precious pets.

Hermione looked at him with a surprised expression. "A Snidget?" she asked, not sure if she was going to believe him.

"Yes, Granger, a Snidget," he said proudly in a tone that one would use on an ignorant child. "It's a magical bird, like I said."

"I know it's a bird!" she snapped. "But isn't it illegal to capture one? Much more to own one!"

Draco smirked at her again. "Well, I got away with owning a Runespoor[2], I can get away with a Snidget."

Hermione's jaw dropped open in surprise. "You've got a Runespoor, as well?" she asked, unable to believe her ears. "Stop pulling my leg, Malfoy." It was bad enough to own a Snidget; having a Runespoor besides that was worse.

"I'm not pulling your leg, Granger. I really do have a Runespoor," he continued. "The Critic's name is Venom, since he's the one with the poisonous fangs and all. The Dreamer is Fallasia, and the Planner is Keikaku. Not that you care, anyway." He reached for a piece of cloth in his kit and began to wipe the base of the broom clean.

Hermione opened her mouth to reprimand him. "You do know the consequence of owning those animals, don't you? You could be put in Azkaban just for that."

He put on a touched expression. "You do care," he said.

Hermione rolled her eyes again. "I swear, Malfoy," she said irritably. "You are the most bigheaded jerk I've ever seen and had the misfortune to meet." She stood from the seat and walked to the door of her bedroom. "Good luck in the match next week, anyway." As if realizing what she had said, she hastily added, "Not that I want you to win or anything like that—." She stopped speaking abruptly and hurriedly went into her room to hide her embarrassment.

Draco would have laughed at her unusually peculiar behavior, but he was too displeased by her words to do so. He was used to having people say that they don't want him to win, but this was the first time that the words really disappointed him. What was more surprising was it was Hermione who had said it. If it were another person who said it, he would have just laughed it off, but for some reason he didn't want Hermione to not wish him to win. He wanted her to want him to win.

He shook his head to push away those thoughts. _Get real, Draco_, he told himself. Sighing, he went back to caring for his broomstick.

0000000000

"Albus, you feel it, do you not?"

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore faced the gathering of teachers sitting in his office. Everyone in the room had serious expressions, even Fawkes the Phoenix wasn't singing his usual beautiful Phoenix song. "Yes," Dumbledore affirmed, eyeing McGonagall through his half-moon glasses. "Yes, I do, Minerva. There is something different in the school. There is a spy here, I'm afraid."

Professors Sprout and Flitwick gasped as one. "No!" Sprout exclaimed.

"Yes, there is, Sprout," Snape put in. "I can feel it as well. The Dark Lord has sent someone here in Hogwarts." He involuntarily rubbed his left forearm, conscious of the Dark Mark that was concealed in his robes. "What we don't know is who the spy is."

Flitwick squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "But it would be really difficult to enter the school if you were an outside," he squeaked.

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Yes, indeed, it would be difficult. The hounds on the grounds are trained to catch whoever is not authorized here, basically those who not part of the student population or the Hogwarts staff and house elves. The enchanments I put on them would also make it impossible for the spy to cast spells on them." He paced the room thoughtfully. "There are also many wards around the grounds and, as we all know, it's impossible to apparate or disapparate from here."

"The culprit must be really very good," McGonagall reflected, fiddling with her pointy witch's hat in perturbation.

Hagrid cleared his throat loudly. "Could't be one o' th'students?" he asked innocently. "Professor Flitwick's righ', I mean. It's impossible fer outsiders ter get in w'thout bein' d'tected, after all."

Dumbledore shook his head solemnly at this. "We cannot go around suspecting our students of this. It will destroy the relationship between students and teachers."

"But, Professor Dumbledore, sir," Hagrid reasoned. "There are a lot o' 'spicious charact'rs 'ere. That Malfoy boy—."

"Draco may be Lucius son," Snape said loudly, rising to defend his student. "But he isn't Lucius. It doesn't mean he is just as evil. I know him more," he continued. "Seeing as he is in my house, and he is not like Lucius, though he is one who loves to push others around and act superior to everyone."

Dumbledore tried calming them down. "There, there…" he said.

"E's Lucius Malfoy's son," Hagrid said stubbornly. "'N we know that 'e's in You-Know-Who's inner circle. Yeh know what they say: like Father, like son."

"He is not Lucius," Snape continued angrily. "Draco is different. _I_ was in the Dark Lord's inner circle as well, and Albus trusted me when I said I have changed sides."

Hagrid snorted. "It don't mean I do."

Snape glowered at Hagrid with pure Hatred with a capital H. "I think it is more appropriate to trust Draco Malfoy than to trust a half-giant like you," he said spitefully.

"Stop it!" Dumbledore interjected before Hagrid could retort. "During these times we should not be fighting amongst ourselves, but we should co-operate with one another to bring Voldemort down together." He turned a strict eye on Hagrid. "Hagrid, like I said, we cannot suspect our students, especially if it is only based on his or her family's history." Next, he faced Snape, saying. "Giant, half-giant, pure human or not, I trust Hagrid with my life, Severus. It is inappropriate for a Hogwarts teacher to stereotype others, may it be a fellow teacher or a student.

"Now," he continued. "We should start thinking of how to keep Voldemort away from our school. For him to get close to any of our students is the worst thing that could possibly happen to Hogwarts."

"Is it safe to speak of this here?" Madame Pince asked skeptically. "If we have a spy here, wouldn't it be careless to speak of this without precautions?"

Sprout comforted her by patting her on the shoulder. "Do not worry, Pince," she said almost cheerfully. "Professor Dumbledore's office is always well guarded. That gargoyle outside is tasked to keep those not part of the staff away from the door. That includes students and elves. And do not forget that Albus is one to take all necessary precautions."

"It is impossible to listen from the outside," Professor Vector added.

Thus satisfied, Madame Pince sighed with relief and Dumbledore resumed speaking.

"Right. Now let us go on with this." He went around his desk to the Pensieve standing on it. taking his wand, he pointed it to his scalp and pulled something white and wispy form his head. To someone not part of the magical world, it would look like his hair, but at closer look, it is noticeable that it glows in a way that human hair cannot. Sinking the tip of his wand into the black cauldron, which held many more similar white strands, he deposited his thoughts into the Pensieve. "A very reliable source has informed me that Voldemort has already enlisted the aid of the Goblins of the South. Those in the North are awfully stubborn, as is common knowledge."

"Albus," McGonagall said to him. "We have to get the Northern Goblins into our side before he does. It will be disastrous if he got to them first."

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Precisely. Which is why I've sent Mad-Eye and some other Aurors and members of the Order to do that. Hopefully, they succeed. If they do not…" He looked up into each of the Professors' anxious faces. "If the Goblins do not accept our proposal, we have no choice but to look for ways to counterattack them in case the need arises."

"The Giants could help us," Sprout offered. "They have enough strength to hold up an army of nasty Goblins."

"That is if they are still willing to side with us," Snape added. "You know how contumacious they also are. At the least sign of weakness from our part, they would choose the other side. Thick skulls, those giants have." At this, he gazed distastefully at Hagrid, who glared back with as much hatred.

The Headmaster sat back on his armchair with a sigh. "That is precisely what I am worried about," he said, a tired tone creeping into his normally lively voice. "The Giants change their minds too easily—"

"I'll talk to 'em!" Hagrid volunteered. "I can go the the mountains jus' like before."

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid we cannot do that, Hagrid," he told the school's gamekeeper. "Last time we did that you came home too bloodied up. We cannot risk that anymore."

"But, Professor Dumbledore, sir—!"

"No, Hagrid," Dumbledore said with an air of finality. "My mind is made up. We cannot do that anymore. I will ask someone else. I know of a fairy who has connections with some Giants. I will contact him as soon as he learn where he is—." Suddenly, he sat up straight on his chair, staring directly at something glittering on Hagrid's shoulder. Standing up abruptly, he walked around his table and snatched the thing. It was a piece of string, and, as soon as he touched it, he felt something pulling on it from the opposite, which was apparently outside.

The Professors in the room stood from their seats at his sudden action, realizing that something was terribly and seriously wrong.

"We've been duped!" Dumbeldore said angrily, still not letting go of the string. "Someone was obviously eavesdropping on us the whole time, and I didn't notice it!" he pulled the string and saw that it had gone in through his door. Following its trail, he and the other Professors went outside. Thy found that the string went past the gargoyle and to a corner. Finally getting to the end of the rope, they found that it had been abandoned.

"Is that one of the Weasley twins' Extending Ears?" McGonagall asked.

Snape growled. "No, it isn't," he said. "I recognize that. Ancient wizards have used these strings for listening in on important business. The _Espier Wire _is now a very rare magical object. You hardly see even the most rich families with it. the most ancient ones are the only ones who could have enough history and influence to own one."

Dumbledore, still furious at what had happened, walked briskly back to his gargoyle. "This is all due to my carelessness," he muttered angrily, ignoring what the other Professors' said about it being a mistake even the most powerful ones can make.

"I'm really sorry, Professor," Hagrid apologized quietly, in as quiet as he could in his giant voice. "This is all my fault. I'm not a careful enough person. I'll go pack me bags and leave right away."

"Don't be a fool, Hagrid," Dumbledore said sternly. "It's not your fault. Nobody noticed anything wrong, so you are not to blame." Finally reaching the entrance to his office, he walked up to the gargoyle. "Harper," he said, addressing the gargoyle. "Has anyone been in this corridor for the past half hour?"

The gargoyle shook it's head. "Not a soul, Headmaster," it answered. "Not one soul but all of these with you."

Dumbledore almost muttered a curse. Whoever the spy was, he was definitely a good one.

0-0-0-0-0-0-

A/N: This chapter took suuuuch a looong time, I know. We started having classes, see, and I couldn't find time to type.

The Snidget and Runespoor, source is hp-lexicon.org:

[1] Snidget- a Snidget is a magical yellow/gold bird with red eyes. This animal was used in Quidditch a long time ago, now replaced by the Snitch, but a lot of them were killed in the process so now they're nearly extinct. Because of this, capturing and owning one is banned, and severe penalties await those who disobey this.

[2] Runespoor- Still another magical animal, reaching a length of 6-7 feet and with three heads: the critic, the dreamer and the planner. The planner decides where to go, the dreamer dreams and the critic is the one with the poisonous fangs. What's funny is the critic almost always hisses, so the other two heads get annoyed and bite it off. The eggs are used for making potions to enhance mental ability

Next Chapter: More trouble for the protagonists of the story!


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Isabel walked down the hall which led to the house's drawing room, rubbing her hands together in the cold. It was long past Hogwarts curfew, so she took quite a while to sneak out. In fact, she almost ran into Filch on her way out of school, but it was a good thing that she saw him before he saw her. If he had his cat with him, though, she probably would have already been caught, and she thanked her lucky stars that Mrs. Norris was off somewhere else. After some time of walking, she finally got to the house she meant to head for. Pushing open the door to the drawing room, she entered to find that there was afire ready in the fireplace.

"You are late," Wormtail told her angrily. "The Master has been waiting for more than an hour for you."

Isabel rolled her eyes and scowled. "Excuse me for being only just eleven years old, then," she said tartly. "If you had provided a means of transportation for me, such as a portkey, I would have gotten here earlier. But no. You made me, an eleven-year-old Flauncet who cannot yet apparate or disapparate, walk from Hogwarts to this far-flung secluded area." She folded her arms across her chest and stared at him, looking very annoyed. "I mean, really. Not only are you ugly and stupid, but so inconsiderate to boot!"

Wormtail glared at her furiously. "I am decades older than you are, missy," he said with as much dignity as he had. "You'd better learn to speak with more respect than that."

"You are so pathetic, Wormy," she retorted knowingly. "You said it, you're decades older than me. Yet why is it that I have far more intelligence than you do? I mean, we all know that I'm a genius witch with an IQ of 157, but even if I weren't that smart I'd still surpass your intelligence." She smirked at him smugly. "Many people said you were the most asinine of you four _Marauders_ back at Hogwarts, but I really never thought you'd be this bad off."

Wormtail's round face swelled in anger and he looked enraged enough to kill. "Wormy, you say?" he whispered furiously under his breath. "Asinine, whatever that may mean, you say? Why you little—!"

"Wormtail! What are you doing?"

Wormtail turned his head to the left, his wand still pointed to Isabel, who had turned her back to him. Standing there, black robes flowing around him, was Voldemort. "Master," Wormtail murmured in his squeaky voice, dropping his hand. "The long awaited for spy has at last arrived. And with much impudence too, if I may add. She was just complaining and saying we should have provided a portkey for her so that she would have gotten here earlier."

"And do you not agree, my lord?" Isabel asked innocently, turning around so that Voldemort could see her. "I mean, I am just eleven. I think he should have been more sensitive, seeing as he only asked me to do his job for him since it is 'more convenient' for me, being a student in Hogwarts and all."

Voldemort looked from Isabel's innocent face to Wormtail's furious one. "I think the _girl_ has a point, Wormtail," he sneered, much to Wormtail's chagrin. "Indeed, it is not her fault that she had to walk all the way from Hogwarts to here. Really stupid of you. And one more thing is all the while you were telling me that the spy is a _he_. No wonder I couldn't picture which Flauncet you were talking about, since all of Maxima's children are _female!_" He raised one hand and brought it down heavily on Wormtail's cheek, causing the latter to fall backward unsteadily. "Fool of a Pettigrew, you truly are." Turning on his heels, he walked to where Isabel stood waiting. "Of course, all Pettigrews are stupid."

She stepped back and bowed her lowest bow. "I have brought a report on Dumbledore's recent plans, Master," she said in a sure voice that never shook.

"Good, good," Voldemort hissed, raising his right hand and tilting her chin up with it. "But you must be exhausted from your trip. You had better sit down for a moment." Letting go of her chin, he waved his wand around and summoned the two armchairs sitting in a corner. "Sit down. You are Isabel, are you not?"

Isabel sat herself comfortably on the chair. "Yes, my Lord," she replied. "I am the youngest of us three girls. Unfortunately, both my sisters have been married off and living in different countries, so they cannot be with us as of now. But they did tell me to tell you that, were you to wish, they are in your command."

Voldemort was impressed. Not many children her age would be able to speak to him the way she did, confident and straight off. "For and eleven-year-old you are incredibly clever," he commented, twirling his wand between his fingers, as had been his habit since the times when he was still referred to as Tom Riddle. "Tell me, Isabel, what did you find out about Dumbledore's plans?"

Isabel looked mildly abashed. "Well, Dumbledore has sent Aurors to get the Northern Goblins to their side. From what I heard, Mad-Eye Moody was one of them."

"Ah, Alastor." Voldemort whispered. "He looks like a Goblin himself, if you ask me. I wonder if he's a relative. So they want to get the Goblins of the North with them? Goblins are awfully obstinate." He smirked at the thought of Mad-Eye persuading the Goblins to their side and failing then being thrown over a cliff. "Well, what else?"

"The Headmaster thought the same thing, my Lord, and as a precaution he is planning to get the Giants as well, in case the Goblins refuse them. He says he will send a fairy to persuade them."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow. "A Fairy? But fairies hardly ever side with humans. Oh, of course. Nothing's impossible for old Wulfric." He chuckled evilly at this.

Isabel looked at Voldemort uncomfortably, aware of how gleeful he was. She didn't know how to admit that Dumbledore had discovered that someone was listening to them planning. "But, my Lord…" she started nervously.

Voldemort stopped smiling as soon as he heard the word "but." From the tone she used, he could tell that something had gone wrong. "What is it?" he asked, eyebrows knitted together.

Isabel swallowed hard. "Please forgive me, my Lord, but Dumbledore found out that somebody was listening in on his conversation with the other Professors."

"What?" he asked, rising angrily from his seat. "He found out that you were eavesdropping?" Knowing that someone else knew his plans would probably make Dumbledore change his course of action. And just when Voldemort learned of them, too.

"Well," Isabel muttered. "He does not yet know that I am the spy, but he does know that there is a spy in the school who knows what his scheme is."

Voldemort massaged his temples slowly in an attempt to calm down. "Very well. What was it that you did, anyway?"

Isabel looked a little less nervous. "I put an _Espier Wire_ on the half-giant teacher's shoulder," she said. "It would have been alright, but Dumbledore, old and withered as he is, still saw it. My Lord, none of the other teachers, not even the ones standing right behind the half-breed could have seen it." She paused, seeing the grave look that the Dark Lord had. "I'm sorry. I…"

"Never mind that," he said dismissively. "It is expected that an eleven-year-old should goof up, anyway, even geniuses." He sat down again on his armchair. "Besides, I still have some belief left in you. I'm impressed that you know how to properly use a rare item such as the Espier Wire. I admit, the old coot can spot things others never can in their whole lifetimes." He raised his eyes to look at her, and she returned the gaze unflinchingly. "Very well, you are forgiven. I am giving you one more chance to find out if Dumbledore had made any change of plans. If you fail me once more, you will stop serving as my spy."

Isabel nodded determinedly. She was going to serve the Dark Lord well, if it's the last thing she does.

0000000000

Hermione, Ron and Harry walked together down the corridor to the Great Hall for lunch. Monday morning had been bad. Harry and Ron screwed up their Transfiguration activity. Hermione was feeling bad for getting a lower grade than Neville Longbottom for the Herbology check-up quiz, despite the fact that she was genuinely happy that Neville could actually excel in something. Then, during Care of Magical Creatures, Hagrid accidentally sat on all three of them, squashing their bags and breaking one of Harry's ink bottles, causing his whole bag to turn dark and sticky.

"I do hope our bad luck does not continue until lunch time," Hermione reflected aloud for her friends to hear. "I think I've had enough for the week."

Ron immediately livened up. "Of course it shouldn't!" he said energetically. "Lunch is a time to enjoy a hot meal for an empty and sad stomach. It bloody hell won't do for bad luck to hang around us during any meals on any day."

"Can't you think of anything but food, Ron?" Harry asked, throwing Ron a look of disbelief. "I mean, we're having a History quiz later in the afternoon. Aren't you at least worried about that?"

"Of course I am, mate." Ron replied loudly. For someone who had been complaining about having no energy, he seemed very alive and perky. "I get worried about other things, too, you know. It's just that I really truly value the full meals that I get here in Hogwarts. You know us Weasleys; we barely make enough money to keep out house upright and standing."

"You're not going to go on about you being poor and crap like that again, are you?" Hermione asked cautiously. There had been many times when Ron spoke bitterly of his being poor, and it usually ended in a quarrel between the three of them. "I though you said you already accepted the fact that you are—well, not so financially advantaged?"

Ron looked a little guilty, the tips of his ears turning a light pink. "You mean me?" he asked in an innocent tone. "Of course not. Getting pouty and all is just too childish for a seventeen-year-old me. I've moved on, in case you haven't noticed." Before either Harry or Hermione could answer, he pulled them by the sleeves of their robes and whispered, "And there are Justin and Ernie."

Like Draco had predicted. The news about the two Hufflepuff boys was the subject of every conversation that Sunday morning. Indeed, Padma and Pansy, as well as Millie, spread the news to their dormmates the moment they stepped into their dorms. The dormmates, in turn, told their friends and Housemates about it. Justin and Ernie were not spared of anything. As soon as they both stepped down from their dormitories that morning, every eye in the Hufflepuff common room had turned to them, and at once they knew that their secret was out. Now they both stood in a corridor near the Great hall, heads bent together in conversation.

Hermione gently pushed the backs of Ron and Harry towards the Great Hall. "You two go on ahead," she whispered. "I'll get in after a while."

"But, Hermione," Ron protested. "It's not good to skip lunch."

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't say I was skipping lunch. I just have to do something."

"What?" Harry asked disapprovingly. "Comfort the two lovers? Herm, it's not any of your business who dates who. I don't think they'd appreciate your intrusion much."

"Who's intruding?" she asked innocently. "Nobody's intruding. I'm just going to try and see how things are going for them. As Head Girl I serve many purposes, and one of them is being sort of a peer counselor. We have to establish good relationships with people from other Houses, and I feel it is my duty to initiate it. If the Head Girl herself does not even try bonding with the other students, who would? It is time we took action by—"

"Okay, okay. We get it," Ron interjected. "Don't get yourself worked up over a couple of gay dudes. So, we'll go on ahead into the Great Hall and save you a seat."

Harry still looked disapproving, but he went with Ron, anyway. "I swear, Hermione, this is none of your business, but go ahead if you want. We'll wait for you there."

Hermione waved them off, smiling. "Don't forget to save me some of that Apple Pie that is supposed to be served today," she called to them quietly. Seeing both of them give her a thumbs-up, a sign that they would do so, she turned her back to them and walked to the couple in the next corridor.

Justin was the first to see her advance toward them, and he reluctantly waved a hand in greeting. "Hello, Hermione," he said shyly, thinking that she was going to tease them about their secret relationship getting out in the open.

"Hi, Hermione," Ernie said, as well, putting his hands in his robe pocket and looking down at the floor to hide his blush.

"Hey, Justin, Ernie," she greeted simply. "Why are you looking down at the floor? In case it's about your situation, I do not in the least bit care if you two are going out. I mean, who am I to judge you? So, if you're shy about this whole thing, I want you to know that you have my support."

Both boys looked up at Hermione's words. "Really?" Justin asked, and she nodded.

"You're the first person to not tease us, you know," Ernie added. "No wonder you're friends with Harry. You can be a pretty swell friend."

Hermione blinked, slightly offended to think that Ernie had only just realized how good a friend she could be. "Well, thank you, Ernie," she replied. "It's nice to know that you noticed."

Ernie seemed to have realized how his words had sounded, and he apologized to her. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I didn't mean it that way," he said. His face was so serious and sincere that she couldn't help but smile. "Anyway, I think we have to get to lunch now. Thanks again."

"So, you two are alright, now? You could always talk to me."

Justin answered gratefully for them both. "As a matter-of-fact, yes. But we really should go now."

Hermione nodded. "Okay. See you in the Great Hall, then." She had already turned around when she heard Ernie call out her name. Turning back around, she was surprised to see Ernie right in front of her. She was even more surprised when Ernie leaned and gave her a peck on the cheek… or, for accuracy's sake, right beside the lips.

"Thanks a lot, Hermione," he said before turning and following Justin who was already down the hall.

Hermione brought up a hand to the part that Ernie had kissed, still sort of not believing what had happened. _I bet he's the gay one between them_, she thought to herself. _Yes, gay people like kissing other girls on the cheek._

She hadn't noticed that someone was watching her. Draco was hiding in one corner of the corridor, absolutely seething with anger at what he had just witnessed. One minute he had been laughing silently at Justin and Ernie, the next he was incensed at Hermione for allowing Ernie to kiss her. Okay, so it wasn't his business who kisses Hermione, but, really, the Head Girl she should not be flirting with other people's lovers. Or so that's what he forced himself to think.

"God, Granger," he said, slipping out of the shadows towards her. "Coquetry really is in your nature, isn't it? There was that you and Weasley thing before, then Viktor Krum, then you developed that crush on Potter two years ago. Now you're going after homosexuals. Have you no shame at all?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow in surprise. "What are you ranting on about?" she asked. She hadn't done anything at all to anger Malfoy, yet there he was, blue-gray eyes flaring. "And what's this about me having a thing with Ron and Viktor and a crush on Harry?" She was fairly sure that she was discreet about her crush, but how had Malfoy known it? Was he really that observant or did he just say that because he wanted to?

"I meant that kiss with Macmillian," Draco said exasperatedly. "I saw what you two did. You kissed him. And on the lips, if you don't mind me adding." He crossed his arms across his chest, still giving Hermione a look of mixed disapproval and anger.

"You've gone bonkers, Malfoy," Hermione replied after a moment of speechless silence. "I was not flirting with anybody, nor was I kissing anyone. It was Ernie who did it. It wasn't even on the lips. It was right here." She pointed a finger to the spot that Ernie had smacked. "We never touched lips and we never will." Fixing her bag strap on her shoulder, she turned her back to him to head for the Great Hall. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to lunch."

Draco watched her walk away from him before following. "But I saw you," he insisted. "You kissed on the lips."

Hermione turned around and rolled her eyes at him, sighing exasperatedly. "Why don't you drop it?" she asked, more than a little irritated at his sudden and false accusation. "I told you, you've got it wrong. It was a friendly _peck_ on the _cheek._ What business is it to you, anyway? As far as I know, you don't give a damn what's happening to me—" She paused, faking a look of understanding. "Oh… are you jealous? You are, aren't you?" She had meant it as a joke, but she saw that Draco was slowly growing uneasy. Though she wanted to keep smiling, she found it hard to do so, and she waited for him to start talking.

The moment Hermione joked about him being jealous, Draco went silent. _Am I… really?_ he asked himself. There had been times when he felt anger for Harry and Ron just because Hermione was spending time with them or laughing with them about something. And there were those times when he was alone in the common room with her when he felt a sort of attraction to her and satisfaction that she was there with him and not with the Gryffindors. And he had really been angry when he saw Ernie "kissing Hermione on the lips." Was he jealous? Remembering that Hermione was standing in front of him, he shook his head and lifted it to face her.

"You wish, Mudblood," he forced himself to say. "As if a Malfoy would get jealous of a fellow Pureblood over a Mudblood like you. You're the one who's gone bonkers." Keeping a straight face, he walked past her and went for the Great Hall. "All I'm saying is that, as Head Girl, you shouldn't be flirting with someone who already has a lover."

Hermione looked indignantly at him as she walked the same corridor he was walking. "I am telling you, I was not flirting with Ernie. Besides, it's not like I wanted to be kissed by someone who's gay. I could have avoided him, but I just didn't think he would do that. Even if he was straight, I wouldn't, but now I guess I should start watching out for anyone who might want to kiss me." She had to run to catch up to Draco, who was only about fifteen feet from the door. She caught up with him just as the distance between him and the doors became five feet shorter.

Suddenly, she felt something gripping her wrist, and she found herself hitting the wall, the impact thankfully a little lessened by the bag on her back. Opening her eyes, she found Draco in front of her, his face only inches from hers. He was pinning her wrists to the wall and her body with his.

"I bet you didn't expect that," he said, wearing a serious expression as he looked into her eyes.

Hermione stared back at him. She could feel the closeness of their bodies and the rapid beating of her heart, but she couldn't help retorting. "Of course, I didn't, she said coolly. "You think I'd expect you to suddenly make that move on me? I'm not stupid, Malfoy, in case you haven't noticed in the six years we've become schoolmates."

"Proves you could get careless at time, as well, Granger," he replied, still not letting her go. "I thought you would start watching out now? You really should learn to be alert at all times. Constant vigilance, like Moody always says."

The doors to the Great Hall opened, and out came Millie Brackhart and one of her nerdy girlfriends. They both turned their heads to the right and met the sight of Hermione and Draco "hugging" as they stared back. Millie's eyes widened, which was a bad thing because Millie's eyes rarely widened. It could only mean on thing when she does that; what she witnessed must be very very inconceivable. The thing is, the more controversial the happening, the faster the news about it will spread.

Hermione knew that very well. "Millie," she whispered cautiously. "This is so not what it looks like. Please—"

"I am sorry!" Millie apologized. "I didn't think you two would be doing _that_ here. We'll leave now!" She pulled Bernadette, her friend who had remained stunned and speechless, by the hand and together they ran to the Hufflepuff common room.

"Brackhart!" Draco called after her, but they were gone. "Stupid Hufflepuffs," he whispered, turning to face Hermione. He noticed that he was still pinning Hermione to the wall and she was looking at him with the most peculiar expression. He hastily let go of her wrists and backed away, looking at her as if she had been doing something horrible and unspeakable. "Granger, what do you think you're doing to me?" he asked.

Hermione huffed indignantly. "Me? What did I do? You were the one assaulting me!" She looked at him a little angrily, knowing that he was already thinking up excuses that would make it look like what Millie had witnessed was all her idea. "Don't you be starting any rumors, Malfoy. Not anything about me forcing myself on you or anything stupid and untrue as that."

Draco snickered. "Are you kidding me?" he said haughtily. "If I were to spread any rumors around, it would be something to my benefit. You think telling the whole school that Hermione Granger forced herself on me fits under that category? Dream on. Males should overpower females, not the other way around."

"Oh, I smell a thick smoke of gender stereotyping and discrimination here," she replied with a bitter laugh. "You boys really do think you have the right to be dominant, do you?"

Draco shrugged indifferently. "Yes, actually," he said straightening his robes. "You sissies should just stand back and adore us like we're gods. Now, I believe lunch ends in less than thirty minutes. I would enter the Great Hall now and I would appreciate it if you didn't do anything to stop me."

Hermione stared open-mouthed at him as he opened the great oak doors. "Who's stopping you?" she said. "You'd think from his words that I was the one who delayed him." Straightening her robes, as well, she followed him into the Great Hall and headed for the Gryffindor House table where Harry and Ron were waiting for her patiently. Or so she thought.

"Where were you?" Ron asked as she placed her bag down on the floor and sat between him and Harry. "Justin and Ernie went in ages ago! Harry and I were ready to go out and organize a search party for you!" Turning his head to Draco, who he had seen enter only seconds before Hermione did, he scowled. "Malfoy didn't do anything to you, did he? He's got that smug look on his annoying ratty face."

Hermione shook her head as Harry passed her the breadbasket, which she waved off. She tried her best to look like nothing had rattled her, and she hoped she looked convincing enough. "Nothing happened. Nothing that I couldn't handle, anyway. Just… well, it's nothing."

Harry glanced suspiciously at Hermione. She was acting evasively, and Hermione did that only when she either has something to say but still wasn't sure of it, or when there was something really important that she was hiding from them. Right now he was willing to bet that it was the latter case. "But it was Malfoy wasn't it?" he asked anyway. He saw her stiffen for a moment.

"Well, yes, sort of," she replied quietly, pushing her peas around her plate with her fork. "But, really, I can handle myself. He just did that usual Pureblood-Mudblood thing. Nothing I couldn't handle, like I said earlier."

Ron huffed. "Huh… he never gets tired of that, does he? He's been going on about it for seven years already. Doesn't he have anything better to do? I mean, really, what's the point? Everyone knows that Hermione's muggle-born, and they don't care, do they? Hermione can kick Malfoy's ass anytime she wants to."

Hermione smiled appreciatively, though she highly doubted that she could really kick Malfoy's ass easily enough. "Thank you for that nice comment, Ron," she said, thankful that she had such a great and faithful friend. "I don't know how you do it, but you really light up my day." Scooping some peas into her spoon, she put the food into her mouth and began chewing on it, aware that Harry was still looking at her strangely.

"Glad to know that I can be of some help to the Great Granger," Ron joked, leaning back on his seat as he had only just finished his food.

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to Ron, still chewing on some peas. "What is it with people calling me the Great Granger?" she asked. At first, hearing the others calling her great was totally flattering, but now it only served as something to annoy her. "I mean, really, it's not like I'm perfect or anything. Even when Malfoy mocks me he calls me by that name or title or whatever you call it. I'm just as normal as you guys, after all."

"Ron and I were just talking about this the other day," Harry told her. "You see, Hermione, you may not be perfect, like you said earlier, but you are the greatest witch to come across Hogwarts in years."

"I'm not really sure about that, Harry," she said back. "But if I really am what you say I am, I also want to be known as Hermione Granger, a muggle-born trying to be her best as a witch in this world. I do not want to be labeled as _The Great Granger_ or something stupid like that." She reached for her goblet of apple cider and put it to her lips, taking a sip out of it.

Harry grunted. "Now you know how I feel," he replied bitterly to Hermione. "Now you know how it feels like whenever people call me The-Boy-Who-Lived. Didn't I tell you that the attention was sickening? Yes, at first it's all cool, but when you hear it too much already, it's just so annoying. But you had always insisted that it was 'probably nice being famous' or that I am 'having a blast encountering people who would love to do nothing else but stare at my scar in awe.' It doesn't feel too nice now, does it, Hermione?" He took his goblet and wiped the moisture off the side of it.

Hermione took another sip of her apple cider guiltily. True, she had told Harry loads of times that it was probably very flattering to have all the people around you adore you and follow you around. She never thought that Harry also felt bad about his fame, though he had insisted years ago that it could get irritating. Now she knew, and she felt sorry for Harry and herself. And for Ron, too. Heaven knows it was disturbing to be known only as 'Harry Potter's Weasley sidekick' or 'Fred and George's younger brother.' _I guess we all have our share of being labeled many names._

"Are you on a diet?" Ron asked suddenly, shaking her out of her thoughts.

Hermione raised her eyebrow. "What?"

Ron pointed to her plate. "You only ate the peas and the pie."

"And what does that have to do with the conversation we were having?"

"Oh…" Ron looked up at the enchanted ceiling, pretending to enjoy the sun and sky depicted there like it's the real thing. "Well… if you won't be eating your fried chicken…"

Harry rolled her eyes and shook his head, pushing Hermione's plate toward Ron. "Take it, Ron. God, you always have a large appetite, don't you?"

Hermione smiled as Ron shyly took the chicken leg. "But that was _my _chicken, Harry," she joked. "What right did you have to give it away?" Nevertheless, she watched in amusement as Ron ate the chicken as slowly as he could. "Now, what were we talking about again? Since the Apple pie wasn't served, anyway."

Ron waved his hand around. "Nothing. You were not talking about anything in particular. Can we not talk about something real serious during mealtime? It totally ruins my appetite."

"Sure," Harry said sarcastically, laughing as Ron took one more bite off the chicken. "You're appetite is totally ruined. The fact that you're _not eating anything_ proves just how obvious it is."

"Haha, Harry," Ron retorted. "Stop making fun of me."

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled. "Oh, you two shut up. You do realize that we should get going to class. We're having a graded recitation and a quiz in History of Magic, remember? I think we should go to the classroom now."

"Hermione," Ron said as he placed the chicken bone on his plate. "We've got ten more minutes." He showed her his wristwatch for proof. "You always rush things."

Hermione peered closer into his watch. "And your watch isn't working at all," she informed him, pointing to his watch. Sure enough, the seconds' hand wasn't moving.

Harry scratched his head and sighed. "I've been telling you for weeks to change their batteries."

"What are we standing here for?" Hermione asked. "We'd better go now if we want to get to class on time. Goodness knows Professor Binns is our only teacher who comes to class early."

Ron shrugged and Harry sighed. "Alright," Ron said quietly. "Let's go torture ourselves in Binns' class." He muttered, "The Lord of the Boring," under his breath before walking with Harry and Hermione outside the Great Hall. "I'm ready for another lovely class about the History or Snores and Snorts."

"Better wish Binns isn't lurking anywhere behind you, Ron," Harry whispered playfully into his ear. Hermione almost laughed as Ron warily threw a glance behind him.

"Ron, you know Professor Binns rarely shows himself in public," she said. "Of course, I meant outside the classroom walls. There is little chance of you bumping into him in the hallways." She watched in amusement as a ghost appeared from the floor and walked through Ron, making him shiver. "Of course," Hermione added. "That doesn't necessarily prove true for the other ghosts in Hogwarts."

Ron glared at Hermione as he rubbed his arms and proceeded to dust himself off, as if doing so would undo what had happened. "I noticed, Hermione," he said. "Way to state the obvious. Do you know what it feels like to have a ghost walk through your body?" He shivered again as he recalled the feeling of having a ghost pass through him. "It's like having freezing water doused over you, only colder. And much more hair-raising and… and…"

"Spine-tingling?" Harry offered. "Goose-pimpling?"

"Exactly!" Ron said.

Hermione nodded and said, "Yes, yes, I know. There's a ghost in the girls' bathroom, remember? Moaning Myrtle has walked through me so many times already." She watched in horror as two of the staircases began moving to the other direction, one of them containing four surprised third years. "Let's hope that doesn't happen to us," she told Harry and Ron, pointing to the unfortunate students.

The three of them rushed up the staircase to avoid the same fate as the third years. Climbing another set of stairs, they landed on the floor of their History classroom just five minutes before the start of class. They cautiously entered the room, looking around for any sign of their teacher. None. They were thankfully safe.

The rest of the Gryffindors were already there, but there were still some Hufflepuffs, with whom they were having the class, that have not yet arrived.

As the three of them walked over to their usual table at the middle of the room, Hermione noticed that Hannah Abbott and another Hufflepuff girl were eyeing them, or more particularly, her. The instant they saw that they had been spotted, they lowered their heads, but she felt their eyes on her again once her back was turned.

What? she though to herself. _Why the heck are they looking at me? _She had a hunch, of course, which was none other than the scene with Draco. Crossing her fingers, she wished fervently that that wasn't it and that she was only being too paranoid. She almost wished it was only about their previous activity in class, that she had gotten the lowest score in some subject, or that she was not the top of her year anymore.

Scratch that. She still wanted to be top of her year.

She waited patiently on her chair, eager for them to stop staring at her. Just when she got fed up and was about to explode and tell them to go look at something else, Professor Binns appeared through a wall in the room. With his arrival came the other missing Hufflepuffs, and they apologized and hurried to their seats, but Hermione felt them stare at her as well.

Oh god… let it be about something else! She felt harry nudge her at the side and she turned to face him.

"Something's wrong with the Hufflepuffs," he whispered to her, looking over his shoulder at the same time. "Their eyes have been glued to you since we came in. you didn't do anything to them, did you?"

Hermione inwardly cursed Harry. _Curse him for being so damn observant_, she thought. "Do you really think I did anything to them?" she asked him innocently. "The only Hufflepuffs I've gone near to were Justin and Ernie, and I'm pretty confident that I didn't do anything to offend them in any way."

Harry shrugged. "I was just asking."

As that moment, Professor Binns began to speak, and all of them were transported to a world where everything was dull and uninteresting.

0000000000

She sat on the dark floor, thinking of everything that has been happening in the outside world. Nothing much had changed, really, but the minor changes were actually to her advantage and not to the other's.

"Well, at least life isn't boring these days," Dark-Hermione, who had decided to call herself Artemis and Light-Hermione Athena, said into the still air. "Of course, what's the point in speaking aloud at all when nobody's there to listen, anyway?" She threw her hands up in the air and lay her back on the invisible ground. "Still, it's better than a deafening silence."

She replayed the recent happenings in her mind. "Let's see," she muttered again. "Hermione—well, _I,_ I mean—oh, I forgot… I'm Artemis now. Anyway, Hermione seems to be taking a strange sort of liking for Malfoy. Well, not liking, per se, but… attraction… fascination. Ha! Yes, I very much prefer Malfoy to Harry, anyway. Who'd want someone who's a goody-goody and everyone's favorite? There's no fun in a guy like that. On a naughty one, though, there could be much fun. I'm pretty sure Malfoy is much more fun in bed than Harry will ever be."

She laughed to herself. "Oh, if only that little pristine, untarnished, white angel could hear what her other half is saying. She'd go ballistic!" She sat up from the floor and looked down on it. Doing so had always given her a bird's eye view of what was happening outside, as if she was another body altogether watching herself from above.

Hermione, the one who had the ability to interact with other people, was sitting on what looked like her chair in the Arithmancy classroom. She was twirling her hair with her fingers and looking in the direction opposite her. Artemis followed her line of sight and found Draco with his back to them, supposedly taking down notes on what the teacher was saying.

"Well, I must say," Artemis muttered. "Even with his back turned, he still looks damn good." As she made the comment, she was reminded of something that made her smile. "Why, I didn't notice this before, but Hermione has finally learned how to cuss and swear!" She clapped her hands together in delight. "Constantly looking at Malfoy and swearing on an irregular basis, those are the symptoms."

She lay back down and closed her eye, trying to concentrate on finding her nicer half. She had long ago found out that their minds were linked and that, if they concentrated hard enough, they would be able to see and hear where the other was and what she was doing. Though… she highly doubted that Athena had already found that out. For a few vexatious moments, she found nothing, but soon she saw a vision of Athena sitting glumly on the floor, drawing shapes in it with her finger. The nicer girl looked very helpless, as if she did not know what to do, and Artemis didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Stupid girl," she thought, opening her eyes. "She's not even doing anything to put up a challenge! At this rate, Hermione's brain and soul will be easily corrupted by _moi._" Flipping her hair, she laughed darkly and smirked. "That would be utterly boring, she has to do something at some point in time."

She remained quiet for a while, bored out of her head with nothing interesting to do. Finally, she threw up her hands in frustration. "Fuck, she has to do something soon before I start slitting my wrist out of boredom!" Breathing in deeply to calm herself, she decided to just watch and observe the happenings in the Arithmancy classroom.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

A/N: This was a boring chapter, as far as I'm concerned. I couldn't think of anything better to write. People, bear with me. It's trouble enough to be thinking of college 24/7.

Next Chapter: Chapter 10 is just going to be all about Draco and Hermione. People are talking about them, people talk to them, they get mad at each other… you know. Chapter 11 is the good part… hihihi! Can't wait to post that one!


End file.
